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MECHANICS 



— AND — 



FAITH 



BY 



CHARLES T. PORTER 



f^"^ ^^ • V > 

^^AR 23 1885, '' 



NEW YORK: 
Evening Post Job Pjrinting Office, oor. JiiioADWAY and Fulton St. 

(Law Telophoiie 541.) 

1885. 



I 



~BLzi-o 

■T7 _ 

I 986 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1885, by (Jha.rles T. Fori ek, in the 
Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



ERRATA. 



Page 19, line 29, for "beings" read " being." 

68, " 29, " strike out " ! '' 

12, " 38, " " our " read " an." 

76, " 21, " " those " " " these." 

83, •' 3, •' " these" " " three." 

85, " 21, " " the " '• " to the." 

95, " 38, " " matters"' read " matter." 
113, First paragraph to be read as a foot note. 
179, line 40, for " develepement " read " development, 
196, " 28, " " knew " " " know." 

203, " 25, " " determine " " " determines." 

204, " 31, '■ "imiiate" " "emulate." 
219, " 13, " " men's " " " man's." 
221. " 29, " " of" " " or." 



I S'86 



Tbibune Building, No. 58. 

New York City, 

1885. 



Dear Sir : 

The following papers are of such a nature that it seems to be the 
prudent course to submit them to criticism before publication. I have, 
therefore, had them put in type, and a few copies printed in this form, 
and the type distributed. 

It is my intention, after having obtained the fullest criticism that I 
I am able, to make a re-study of the whole subject. 

I shall esteem it a great favor if you will read the papers, and note in 
the margin, or on the right-hand page, faults and errors, large or small, 
that you may detect, and points of criticism that may occur to you. The 
course that I have pursued is the best assurance I can give that I desire 
faithful and thorough criticism. 

I am especially anxious lest I may have been an unintentional pur- 
loiner of the tlioughts of others. Please nail anything of this kind you 
may discover, and if convenient give particular reference. 

When your notes are completed, will you kindly return the book to 
me at above address, hy express. 



PREFACE. 



In presenting the following papers, a few words seem 
to be called for by way of preface. 

What is known to us as matter, in its various forms 
and states, is commonly conceived of as being something 
quite distinct from force. Here matter will be considered 
to be force itself manifested in endless diversity of adapta- 
tion to our nature and wants. 

The exposition of this view will not, however, be 
reached until an advanced stage of the discussion. Until 
then it will be necessary to conform the language em- 
ployed to the prevailing idea of a distinction between 
matter and force. Otherwise the truths which are at- 
tempted to be presented in the earlier papers will not be 
conveyed with clearness. 

This conception of the identity of matter with force 
must be regarded as fundamental in true philosophy. 
In every department of thought there is to be ob- 
served a reluctance to recognize the fact that we are 
surrounded b}^ mysteries. While in reality all things pass 
the limit of our understanding, there are not wanting 
minds that refuse to confess even that anything does so. 

Instructors generally feel called upon to explain every- 
thing. In order that they may seem to do this, they 
assume imaginary starting points, which, having been 
devised either by themselves or by their instructors, are of 
course quite within their comprehension. 

The great starting point is the material atom. The be- 
lief in the existence of the atom is the present bane of 
philosophy. This belief gives to physical science its 
materialistic tendency. It provides a limit at which 
thought can be arrested. It opens the door to the revival 
of the heathen conception of the atom, as self-existent and 
possessed of inherent activities. Many minds at the pres- 
ent day seem inclined to rest upon this conception of the 



1 



material atom, as something that can be comprehended, 
and beyond which they feel no impulse or inclination to 
look. 



Much vagueness of thought prevails respecting the 
nature and functions of 'Hhe reason," Our view will be 
made distinct, and it is believed also correct, if we con- 
ceive of that which is commonly termed the reason as 
merely the judicial exercise of the mind, or as the con- 
scious spirit in its judicial activity. 

With the exception of abstract truths we discover noth- 
ing by the process of reasoning. In reasoning we trace 
relations, discriminate, generalize, conclude, and so deter- 
mine our beliefs. These judgments we are forming con- 
tinually, and we always must be forming them, on the 
basis of what appear to us as facts in consciousness. 

Here arises the liabiHty to error. This liability to error 
is of two kinds. In the first place, there is probably no 
one who is not, in a greater or lesser degree, affected by 
preconceptions or erroneous habits of thought, so as to be 
liable to arrive at conclusions which are not warranted by 
the facts observed. And, secondly, it is obvious that, in 
order to form a correct conclusion by the judicial activity of 
the mind, there must be presented in consciousness all the 
facts, certainly ascertained, and nothing else. Otherwise, 
the possession of even a perfectly judicial mind, or a mind 
that is capable of giving to every fact that is seen in cons- 
ciousness its due weight, would be of no avail. 



Force, Truth, Love and Beauty are the four spiritual 
realities which, in their unity, interpenetrate all material 
forms of being. 

These spiritual realities are revealed directly to the 
spirit of man, while the forms within which they are con- 
tained are made known to him through his physical organs 
of perception. 

For the sake of clearness, our perceptions may be con- 



ceived of as being of bvo kinds, namely, those through 
which we are made aware of the existence of what are 
termed material forms of being, and those through which 
we are made aware of the existence of the spiritual reah- 
ties which are manifested to us through these forms, or 
of which these forms are to us the sensible expression. 

K these spiritual reahties in fact exist, then it is evident 
that they must all be apprehended by us equally at least 
with the physical forms which then appear only as the 
me^iia for their manifestation, or as the concrete mode of 
their expression, adapted to our physic-al nature, if we 
would avoid forming partial and superficial conclusions. 



It is through the recognition :: ihese truths that the 
mind becomes able to perceive the harmony that exists 
between reason and faith. 

I have endeavored to reach these truths and to show 
this harmony by the aid, primarily, of mechanical science, 
and of the analogies that this science affords. As such an 
effort, these papers are submitted to the judgment of 
sincere men. 



SUBJECTS. 



PAGE 

Inteoduction 8 

The Unseen 12 

The Criterion of Truth 21 

Superstition 33 

The Judiciaii Spirit 37 

The Unity of the Mind 46 

Mechanicaij Science and ** the Reason " 51 

EEVEIiATION. 60 

The Revelation of Objects of Sense 64 

Cooperation 70 

The Revelation of Mechanical Truth 75 

The Revelation of Abstract Truth 82 

Materialism 87 

The Revelation of Force 101 

The Unity of Physical and Spiritual Truth 108 

The Perception of Spiritual Realities by Recognition 123 

The Revelation of God 128 

The Vebbaii Revelation 140 

Perfection 155 

Natural Religion 159 

Beauty 186 

Suffering 199 

Faith 206 

Prayer 214 



INTRODUCTION 



To most persons, perhaps to every one at first view, the 
title of this book would seem to express the opposite ex- 
tremes of thought. It would appear to be a bringing 
together of subjects which are quite incongruous, and be- 
tween which no relation can exist. 

A little reflection, however, will show us that this view 
cannot be the correct one, but must be only an effect of 
our conventional habits of thought — habits that have been 
formed by a false education. 

There are no incongruities to be discovered in nature, but 
everywhere harmonies instead. No unrelated things exist, 
but all things are seen to be bound together by innumerable 
relations. If, therefore, mechanics and faith are realities, 
if one or the other of them be not a mere figment of the 
brain, then it is certain that they cannot be incongruous 
and unrelated, and it is possible that harmonies and rela- 
tions of the most perfect and intimate nature may exist be- 
tween them. 

There is also another line of thought on which we are 
impelled to the same a priori conclusion. This reasoning, 
briefly stated, is as follows : 

Faith is held by the christian to be the highest spiritual 
attainment of man, and an attainment that is ultimately 
to be reached by all men on the earth. This he believes to 
be the purpose of God. Now, if this be so, then everything 
must have a direct relation to this supreme result. It is 
not supposable that anything can in reality exist to 
antagonize this result. No incongruity can exist between 
faith and any other reality whatever. On the contrary, it 
must of necessity be assumed, that, in the universal scheme 
of things, everything has been adapted to promote the 
growth of faith in the soul of man. Whenever the real 
nature and the legitimate influence of any part of this 
scheme comes to be perceived, and just in the degree that 



this nature and influence are perceived, we should expect 
this supreme adaptation to appear, and to grow in distinct- 
ness and prominence. 

In these papers the attempt will be made to show the ex- 
istence of this relation between mechanics and faith — a re- 
lation which, however we may have been taught to ignore 
its existence, still is one which the foregoing considerations 
make it evident that we ought to look for, and one which 
we may find to be of the greatest consequence. 

In a book of travel in England by an American scholar, 
published a few years ago, a book of singular interest on 
account of the charm of association with which every spot 
is invested, a quotation is made from an address delivered 
by Robert Stephenson, on the completion of the central 
towers of the Britannia Tubular Bridge, across the Menai 
Straits, as follows : 

'^Mr. Stephenson said : ' Let them not, any more than 
himself, and all who have been connected with this great 
work forget that, whatever may have been or whatever 
may be, the ability, science, intelligence and zeal brought 
to bear on the creature's work, it is to the Creator that we 
should give praise and thanksgiving ; for without his bless- 
ing on our works how can we expect them to prosper V He 
fully believed that Providence had been pleased to smile on 
the undertaking, and he hoped that they all with him 
would endeavor to obtain those smiles." 

Upon this our author remarks : " It is pleasant to see 
so simple a faith in a mind devoted to so material a science 
as mechanics." 

This amiable comment, so far as it characterizes mechan- 
ical science, may, without doubt, be taken to represent 
the manner in which this science has generally been re- 
garded, or it would be more correct to say has been disre- 
garded, by men who are ranked as thinkers. They whom 
the world delights to honor with this name, however 
widely they may differ on other points, would doubtless be 
found to agree in regarding mechanics as a science alto- 
gether material, devotion to which is especially unfavor- 
able to the growth of faith. 

And yet no view could be more erroneous. Our teachers, 
from causes which we will not stop to seek for now, have 



10 

here overlooked what was especially entitled to their at- 
tention. They have committed the common mistake, and 
one of which they would consider themselves above all 
men to be incapable, of looking onh^ at the outside of 
things, of permitting the thought to rest on that which 
meets the senses. This error of arresting the thought is 
one of degree, and in one degree or another it is more gen- 
eral than is commonly imagined. It hes at the bottom of 
materiahsm, and hides God from the sight of men. 

Mechanical science deals with matter, although, as we 
shall see, not primarily; but it is not itself material. On 
the contrary, it is spiritual in its nature and in all its in- 
fluences. And precisely on account of this singular 
duality, because while spiritual in itself, it deals with 
matter in all of its states and forms, mechanical science is 
also singularly practical, and so is adapted to coiTect the 
tendency to erroneous habits of thought and visionary 
speculations, of what character soever these may be. 

The adaptation of mechanical science to meet the fal- 
lacies of materialism is so admirable, that the complete 
eradication of this noxious weed from the fields of philo- 
sophic thought may be regarded as its sj^ecial office. 

The effect of mechanical science on our physical well- 
being, great and beneficent as this is, shall be surpassed 
in intrinsic importance by its healthful influence on 
thought, on belief, on morals, and generally on the 
spiritual nature of man. Indeed, this influence has been 
widely felt already, although hitherto various causes have 
combined to prevent its distinct recognition. 

This influence of mechanical science is far-reaching. It 
is of a nature to aid directly in establishing in the mind 
the solid foundation of faith. Its immediate tendency is 
to dispel the idea of antagonism between reason and faith, 
to show that antagonism exists only between reason and 
credulity, and to vindicate the authority of faith over its 
own vast region. It shows that faith is not only con- 
sistent with, but that it requires, the exercise of the 
highest intelligence, that aU true philosophy leads up to 
faith, and that the larger and more complete the compre- 
hension of truth becomes, the more absolute faith must 
become. 



I 



11 

These statements, on their first presentation, will natu- 
rally be received with more or less incredulity by many 
persons, whose studies and habits of thought have been on 
lines far removed from those which they are now asked to 
follow. In presenting them, the full burden of proof is 
necessarily assumed. 

In these papers I have attempted to maintain the fore- 
going propositions, and to show the practical application 
of mechanical science to this higher use. I have en- 
deavored to show the intimate connection that exists be- 
tween those forms of truth which are known as spiritual 
truth and those forms of truth which are embraced in the 
term ^'Mechanical truth,"' or rather to show the essential 
unity of these varied modes of expression of universal 
truth. I am, however, deeply sensible of the contrast 
between the greatness of the subject and the necessarily 
limited character of my treatment of it. 



12 



THE UNSEEN. 



Above all other employments of a secular character, the 
study of mechanical science, using the term in its largest 
meaning, operates to famiharize the mind with the reality 
and the controlling nature of unseen things. 

In this respect mechanical science occupies a peculiar 
position. On the one hand, it differs from the other 
physical sciences, in that these terminate in observations 
on matter itself, and on the other hand, it differs from 
pure mathematics, in that this contemplates abstract con- 
ditions only. When physical science is extended to the 
consideration of the laws which govern the action of 
matter, and when mathematics is considered in its ma- 
terial applications, then the two unite, and constitute the 
various branches of mechanical science. 

This science deals, primarily, not with matter, but with 
force, with the unseen and the eternal; and in its study 
and its practice it is with this first spiritual reality that 
men are brought into habitual association. 

Among the things which are earliest taught to the 
student in any branch of mechanics is, to put down on 
paper imaginary points and lines, which are called centres 
and centre lines. These are not seen in any construction, 
but they are the fundamental elements of every construc- 
tion. They are the points in which forces are properly 
conceived to be gathered, and the lines along which forces 
act — in which these are transmitted or resisted. Mechani- 
cal structures and movements are primarily represented by 
diagrams consisting only of centres and centre lines, to 
which, in the case of moving machines or bodies there 
are added lines of motion, which represent the successive 
positions of the centres or of the bodies to which motion is 
imparted. 

These points and lines are objects of purely mental 
perception. They have no material existence. But in the 
mind of the designer of any machine or mechanical 
structure they must always precede the idea of matter, 



13 

and determine the order of its distribution or arrange- 
ment. 

A familiar illustration of this requirement is afforded 
in the eccentric crank, by which the valves of steam 
engines are commonly actuated. No eye ever saw the 
centre of an eccentric, nor the circular path in which this 
centre moves. Both the centre and its path are hidden in 
the soHd interior of the shaft. But in every diagram of 
movements derived from an eccentric, the centre and its 
path are the essential things, the only things pertaining 
to the eccentric itself which need to be represented. 

Following upon these purely ideal points and lines, there 
comes the study of mechanical laws, in obedience to which 
force centres in these points, and is exerted or is trans- 
mitted along these lines. 

These laws, as they are termed for the sake of brevity, 
are merely the statements or expressions of the effects 
which force is observed invariably to produce upon matter, 
under given conditions. We have conferred upon us the 
ability to ascertain these laws, and to determine their 
existence as invariable modes of action. We are thus 
enabled to conform our own purposes to them, and so to 
make matter, in its various forms in which force resides, 
minister to our ends. 

The investigation of these laws, or of the observed effects 
that are produced by the action of force upon matter, 
under the endlessly varied conditions that are found to 
exist, constitutes the sciences of statics and dynamics, or of 
the laws of force at rest and of force in motion; including 
the subdivisions of these sciences which treat of the effects 
of force at rest and in motion upon matter in its fluid and 
gaseous states." 

The observation is an obvious one respecting these me- 
chanical laws, that they are universal. They stand calm 
in eternal unchangeableness. Man is free to obey or disre- 
gard them at his will. At the same time perfect obedience 
to every one, so far as it may be involved in his particular 
work, is the condition of his success, and this condition he 
cannot evade in any way nor in the least degree. 

* The term " dynamics " is used here in its limited and more familiar sense. 




u 

Considering these uniformities in the effects of force as 
Jaws, we may say, not only that we must obey them, but 
also that God has imposed them equally upon himself. Pre- 
cisely as our work must be, so we find all His works to be, 
made in conformity with the requirements of physical laws. 
Whether we consider the sublime mechanism of the uni- 
verse, or the structure of the most minute organism, or the 
operation of any natural agency, everwhere we behold the 
perfect illustration of those principles of construction and 
operation which must be illustrated also in all our works. 

But the mind which has received a development in any 
degree symmetrical, in which the spiritual senses have 
been cultivated, or rather in which these have not been 
obscured, cannot rest here upon the idea of law. Such a 
mind sees clearly that to do this would be to remain satis- 
fied with a very superficial view of the subject. It can affix 
no intelligible meaning to the term ^'natural law" or 
"law of nature " until it arrives at the idea that what for 
convenience we express by this phrase is, in reality, noth- 
ing less than the changeless will of God — the unvarying 
mode in which he chooses that His will shall be done, and 
the mode in which we also must act, unless, either ignor- 
antly or designedly we resist His will, when our purposes 
must fail and our efforts come to nought. Matter implic- 
itly obeys our wills, unless we require it to disobey the 
Supreme will. To this will, therefore, in order that we 
shall accomplish anything whatever by the use or employ- 
ment of matter, our wills must be completely conformed, 
so far at least as the occasion calls for their exercise. 

We repeat, that the mind, in its healthy development, 
demands here something to rest upon more substantial 
than mere verbal conventional expressions, and it cannot 
stop until it has arrived at this sublime truth. 

Now, here is a wonderful thing. Here is a sense in 
which God lifts us up to Himself, in which we are admit- 
ted to share His thoughts, and to give effect to our free 
wills, by harmonizing them with His will. In every suc- 
cessful mechanical work there is a unity of purpose be- 
tween us and our Maker. 

In the production of all these we become His co-workers, 



15 

yea, the voluntary agents by whom He accompUshes His 

purposes. 

When Kepler reflected on the laws of planetary motion 
which he had discovered or demonstrated, he was over- 
come with awe, and has put on record his exclamation: 
"Xow, God, thmk I Thy thoughts after Thee/' 

But certainly the same reflection is pertinent in the case 
of every universal truth discovered by or, correctly speak- 
ing, revealed to man. That such a reflection is not always 
made is only because we are not possessed of Kepler's rev- 
erent spirit. 

Here, then, at the outset we find a close and vital con- 
nection existing between man and the infinite engineer 
of the universe, and we discovered one respect or particu- 
lar in which, beyond any question. God has created man 
in His own image. 

TTe have. thus, in a very general manner, considered 
two subjects, namely, centres and lines of force and mo- 
tion, and physical laws ; but we have not yet contem- 
plated any reahty. VTe have only observed modes of action. 
'We are now to be brought face to face with the first real- 
ity, and we shall perceive it to be entirely spiritual. 

Within all the forms of what we call matter, the first 
reality which our spu'itual sense perceives is force. In 
some unknown way force acts upon matter, as the medium 
of its manifestation. But what force is, how it acts upon 
matter, or manifests itself through matter, what is the 
nature of the connection between them, or what is the 
essential nature of matter itself, all these are questions to 
which we can give no answer. We only know that mat- 
ter, in the various states and forms in which we are 
acquainted with it, behaves, under the action of force, in a 
manner that is invariable under the same conditions. 

Thus we are confronted with a mystery. The very 
first reality, the existence of which we are compelled to 
acknowledge, about which our minds cannot admit a 
doubt, is something of a nature not capable of being per- 
ceived through our bodily organs of sense. We are made 
aware of its existence only through a spiritual sense. We 
may indulge in speculations concerning the nature of force, 



16 

but we can knoiv nothing about it, beyond the fact of its 
existence, thus revealed to us. 

Upon this reahtv the attention of the engineer must con- 
tinually be fixed. He is always in its presence, but he 
cannot behold it. It serves him faithfully, but when he 
would question it it is dumb. To the engineer force is 
at once the most familiar of all things, and the mystery of 
mysteries. With this omnipresent energy, which eludes 
his senses, and is seen only in its effects, he has to deal 
continually. Matter has significance for him only as the 
habitation of force. He is accustomed and required habit- 
ually to look within all material forms, and to consider 
only the forces, in their action and counteraction, which 
either abide in or are transmitted through these material 
forms, in their states of rest or of motion. 

A familiar illustration of the extent to which engineers 
have become able to dispense with matter, and yet to 
secure the forces which alone they require, is furnished in 
the construction of modern railway bridges. 

In these structures the requirement is, that the heaviest 
trains, moving at the most rapid speeds, and thus transfer- 
ring their weight rapidly from one point of the structure 
to another, shall cross spans which often need to be of 
considerable leng-th, and also that such trains coming from 
opposite directions, and moving at these speeds, shall pass 
each other upon these bridges, and that the stresses and 
shocks thus produced shaU be repeated incessantly, and 
yet that the bridges shall remain entirely safe. 

We glide over them, and they are so firm that the 
change in the reverberation from that which is heard when 
the train is moving over the solid ground is hardly 
observable, but when we look at the structures, we see 
that, as compared with bridges of former times, which 
were intended to bear only insignificant weights in addi- 
tion to their own, they seem almost like spiders' webs. 

In the construction of these bridges, every stress that 
can come upon theai is exactly known, and is met in the 
most advantageous practicable direction, and with a resist- 
ance equal to several times its greatest possible intensity. 
That material is employed in which the resisting force is 
known to be contained in the highest degree, and this 



i 



lY 

material is so disposed that not a pound of it is wasted. 
Each member of the structure has its special function^ and 
is designed and proportioned in such a mauner, that the 
amount of resisting force residing in every part of it bears 
a uniform ratio to the amount of stress that can come 
upon such part. 

The history of the growth of engineering skill, and of 
the advance in our knowledge of the action of force, and 
of the means and methods of employing and resisting it, 
which have made such structures possible, is more wonderful 
than the stories in the ''Arabian Nights;" and this be- 
cause we have always to realize the amazing fact that this 
history is true, and its truth constitutes the supreme 
element of wonder, which in the tales of oriental imagina- 
tion is lacking. 

The most comprehensive definition of force that men 
have been able to frame, and one which seems inclusive 
of all its observed effects, is a cause producing, or tending 
to produce, motion. Although this appears to be the 
utmost that we can know about it, still its effects have 
been made the subject of grand generalizations. 

It has been established that force is capable of a great 
variety of manifestations. These appear as potential or 
as dynamical energy, as light, as heat, as electricity and 
magnetism, and as chemical and vegetable and vital 
activity. Force has been shown to be indestructible, and 
to exist in a total degree or amount that is not capable of 
variation. No existing force can ever cease to manifest 
itself in some way. It passes freely from one form of 
manifestation to another ; its disappearance in any one 
form being attended by its appearance, in precisely equal 
amounts, in other forms. 

Force is the sole cause of physical phenomena. All rest 
of matter, and all uniform motion, which is rest in its true 
sense of undisturbed condition, result from the equilibrium 
of counteracting forces ; while changes from a state of 
rest to one of motion, or from one degree of motion to 
another, result from disturbances of this equilibrium, and 
tend towards its restoration. 

The beginning of the cultivation of mechanics, in its 



18 

various branches, as the science of force, marked an era of 
pecuHar importance in the progress that mankind is 
making in civihzation. The recognition of force, as a 
spiritual reahty, manifested through the medium of 
physical forms, which is made in this science, required a 
certain degree of spiritual insight, and constituted the first 
advance made by men from that primitive perceptive con- 
dition, in which thought was limited to these forms them- 
selves, as these are disclosed to us through our physical 
organs of sense. 

This recognition of force has been the first step towards 
the scientific recognition of all spiritual realities, which 
are manifested to us through the same physical medium, 
and of the infinite Being in whom all these consist. And 
because it was the first stej!) in this advance towards the 
perception of all spiritual realities in their unity, it was by 
far the most important one, as upon it all succeeding 
steps must follow. It was also the step which was most 
slowly and gradually taken, and which it was necessary 
should be dwelt upon for a considerable time, in order that 
the mind might be prepared for those which are to follow 
it, in the natural progress of thought. Thus by mechanical 
science the door has been opened to the whole realm of the 
unseen. 

At present, scientific thinkers generally are accustomed 
to stop with the contemplation of force. In point of fact, 
as will be shown, force is not to be generically distiaguished 
from the other spiritual realities of truth, love and beauty, 
which are equally manifested to us through the same uni- 
versal medium of the physical creation, and of whose ex- 
istence we are made aware through a similar mode of 
revelation. But from the point of view to which men are 
now by their education generally confined, force appears 
to be the only spiritual reality that is manifested to us in 
this way. It is the only one with which we are conceived 
to be iiimiediately and practically concerned, and so it is 
to-day imagined to be scientific to limit the attention 
altogether to force. 

This marks the stage of mental or spiritual growth at 
which mankind has arrived. In this stage, scientific 
thought is quite occupied with this first unseen reality, to 



19 

the contemplation of which, in its grander features, men 
are only beginning to be accustomed, and which must be 
employed by us in all the activity of our lives. In reality, 
our connection with force, and our dependence upon it, 
are not any more close or more absolute than are our con- 
nection with, and our dependence upon, all spiritual reali- 
ties; but our relations to it have hitherto seemed more pal- 
pable than those relations do which require for their dis- 
cernment a still more spiritual vision. 

Generalizing from the observed uniformity of the action 
of force, men have formulated the expression, ''Zai(;." In 
returning to this subject, the object is to call attention more 
pointedly to the disposition, now commonly to be observed, 
not merely to rest upon this mere w^ord, but to give to this 
word in some sort an objective character, to regard it as if 
it expressed some substantive reality; when in fact it ex- 
presses and can express nothing except the uniform mode 
of action of a Being. 

This disposition presents an instructive phenomenon. 
Scientific minds are sometimes said to be destitute of im- 
agination, but it will be difficult to find a work of the hu- 
man imagination that is worthy to be ranked with this 
creation. The worship of law is scientific idolatry; or the 
adoration of an image created by men themselves, to 
satisfy an instinctive want. 

We begin here to observe the relation that the physical 
creation bears to the human race as its educator. Its 
office as our teacher respecting all material forms of be- 
ings, and also in the development of our senses, and of all 
our physical and mental powers and activities, which are 
employed in the acquisition of the knowledge of these 
forms of being, and in the utilization of them which we 
have evidently been intended to make, all this is of course 
obvious. 

But beyond this, we already perceive that it is from the 
manifestations of it in the physical creation that we ob- 
tain all our knowledge of force, and receive the prodigious 
increase in our spiritual development that this knowledge 
brings to us. This may be termed "the ministry of 
force." As we advance in this discussion, higher and 



20 

higher exhibitions will appear of the educational work 
which the universe by which we are surrounded has been 
adapted to perform. These educational influences we 
shall find to be addressed to, and to employ and develop, 
every mode of our spiritual activity. 

An important lesson may here be noted. The argument 
from analogy rests upon the unity between spiritual and 
physical being, as proceeding from a common source. 
Upon the assumption of the existence of this unity, and 
upon the evident fact that spirit is a higher order of being 
than matter, the physical creation affords strong pre- 
sumptive evidence of the immortality of the soul. 

A remarkable identity is observed between matter and 
force in this, thcit the former is, like the latter, indestruc- 
tible. While subject, like force, to endless changes of state 
and form, 210 particle of matter can cease to exist. This is 
established by universal and familiar proofs. Then, a 
fortiori, the soul of man, though likewise changing its 
state, cannot cease to exist. 

While to uninstructed minds the constantly present 
phenomena of decay and disappearance of matter sug- 
gest by association the idea that our conscious being may 
cease in like manner; it is deeply interesting to observe 
that, on the very first step towards a knowledge of physi- 
cal truth, this suggestion becomes dissipated, and the true 
analogies of immortality appear in its place. 

Thus from a consideration of the known harmonies of 
the creation the conclusion is compelled, that the idea of 
the cessation of our being in annihilation, that idea which 
fills us with distress, from which we instinctively recoil, is, 
like a mistaken mechanical conception, only a figment of 
the brain, which represents no reality, a shade that vanishes 
at the first dawn of light; and that the opposite idea of our 
immortality, the idea to which we instinctively cling, which 
fills the healthy soul with gladness, which is the balm for 
all wounds, and in which is found the solution of all mys- 
teries that would otherwise darken our earthly being, is 
true. It cannot be that spirit perishes, and matter and 
force endure. 



21 



THE CRITERION OF TRUTH. 

In the preceding paj^er, I have attempted to give a brief 
exposition of the true nature of mechanical science. We 
are next led to consider, in the same general manner, the 
character of the influence which this science is adapted to 
exert. 

It will be found, on making proper inquiry, that 
mechanical science has been the most important auxiliary 
to verbal revelation, in disclosing to mankind the real 
criterion of truth. 

In this vrork. two things are necessary. Xot only must 
the criterion of truth be shown to men, but in addition to 
this the minds of men must be prepared to admit it. 
Men must be educated to recognize, to accept and to 
appeal to this criterion, as the sole and infallible test of 
all truth whatever. 

For the attainment of this result, much more, indeed, 
is required than mere education, as this term is commonly 
understood. A radical change needs to be effected in the 
tendency and disposition of our nature. This change re- 
quires for its accomplishment a strong agency, operating 
through a long period of time, and producing its effects in 
an almost imperce^)tible manner. Mechanical science is 
such an agency. This change on the character and di- 
retion of thought is, in an eminent degree, the work of 
the science of force. 

The problem of the ages has been this: How is truth to 
be distinguished from error i What test shall be applied 
to the notions that we form in our minds, in order to 
determine whether or not there exist any realities to which 
these notions correspond i How is it to be determined 
what we shall, and what we shall not believe. 

With respect to all beliefs, to those of a physical and 
those of a spiritual nature alike, the ancient heathen world, 
if we except the geometry and mechanics that were known 
to them, and the influence of which we have reason to 
believe was very limited, knew of no criterion except 



22 

human authority. The same is true of all heathen races, 
ancient and modern. We limit our view, however, to the 
most intellectual of all. In the teachings of the great 
minds of the Grecian race, there is presented a curious 
medley of half -inspired truths, mistaken conceptions and 
frivolous absurdities, all of which were received by the 
disciples of the philosopher with the same implicit belief, 
on his authority alone. Ipse dixit was the only proposi- 
tion that needed to be^ proved. 

Under the conditions of heathen society, this reliance 
on human authority was a logical necessity. No inquiry 
had been instituted respecting the source of truth. 
Human thought had not ventured so far as this. The 
human mind was the only source of beliefs. These were 
wholly derived from human teaching. So it will be per- 
ceived that human authority afforded the only criterion of 
their correctness. The mind must always be satisfied by 
an appeal to the source of its behef. Beyond this there 
can be no appeal. 

Any departure from this established usage involved a 
radical change in the mode and direction of thought. 
Such a change must be effected by some means, as the es- 
sential pre-requisite to a true civilization. 

This change is from that habit of thought in which the 
mind is satisfied by an appeal to the source of its belief, 
whatever, as the result of previous influences, that source 
may happen to be, to that contrary habit of thought, in 
which the mind seeks for and recognizes the single source 
of truth, which then becomes the only source of its belief, 
and to which, in all cases, its appeal is directly made. We 
shall see that the source of truth, thus either consciously 
or unconsciously recognized, can be nothing less than the 
infinite Being. 

This change in the habit of thought is still far from 
being completely accomplished. It is resisted by subtle 
and powerful influences. It advances so slowly that it 
seems sometimes to retrograde. On the whole, its pro- 
gress has been so partial that, when one contemplates the 
extent of that which is yet to be made, it seems to be only 
just begun. 

The various influences which oppose this transition from 



23 

the one to the other of these modes of thought all have 
theh^ root in a common weakness of our nature, which 
manifests itself in two apparently opposite ways. These 
manifestations are a disposition to assume and to submit 
to human authority in matters of behef . These are essen- 
tially the same disposition, the direction of its exhibition 
being determined by accidental conditions. Whichever of 
these forms this disposition may take, it shows its identity 
by appearing continually in both forms and in equal 
degree in the same individual. The severity with which 
submission is exacted from inferiors always corresponds 
precisely with the servility with which it is rendered to 
superiors. 

In whichever way this weakness may manifest itself in 
any individual, or in any organization, whether in the dis- 
position to assume authority over belief, or in the disposi- 
tion to submit to such authority, in either case alike it 
involves an inabihty to perceive that, since the human 
mind cannot be the source of any truth, so it cannot be 
the legitimate source of any belief. 

When, however, this fundamental truth has been appre- 
hended, then it at once becomes evident that in matters of 
belief all men stand on an equality, and have in this 
respect no relations towards one another, but the relations 
of each individual are immediately and directly with the 
source of truth. It also becomes evident that in this 
respect no distinction is to be drawn between physical and 
spiritual truths. The relations of the individual to the 
infinite source of all truth are just as direct and the 
absence of all relations towards his fellow men is just as 
complete in the case of spiritual truth as they obviously 
are in the case of physical truth. 

The clear perception of the immediate and exclusive 
relation of each individual to the source of truth renders 
it impossible for men either to assume or to submit to 
authority in any matters of belief whatever, for it is then 
obvious that all assumption by man of authority over 
either the physical or the spiritual beliefs of his fellow 
men is absurd, and the exercise of such authority is a 
usurpation. 

This fundamental change in the mode and habit of 



24 

thought has been, and still is, and must continue to be 
until such change shall be universally made, dependent 
for its accomplishment very largely on the influence of 
mechanical science. 

The pecuhar adaptation of this science to the task of 
delivering the mind from bondage to human authority, 
and of making the assumption of such authority ridicu- 
lous in the sight of all men. becomes manifest when we 
consider the nature of its methods. These methods are 
simply experiment and observation. In common with all 
true science, mechanical science has this characteristic, 
that its conclusions are derived from and are brought 
directly to the tests of experiment and observation, and 
are open to free criticism . 

Eepeated experiment and observation constitute the 
only mode in which the teachings of mechanical science 
can be either established or assailed. The names of emi- 
nent discoverers or inventors are held in pecuhar honor, 
it is true, but this is only because the truth and the value 
of their discoveries and inventions have been confirmed 
by every fresh investigation or apphcation of them. For 
this reason alone these have received the acceptance, and 
the minds through which they have been revealed have 
received the homage, of mankind. 

All experiments in mechanical science have for their ob- 
ject to determine the action of force under given con- 
ditions, or, the behavior of some form of matter under 
the action of force. ITie essential natuie of these acts of 
experiment and observation seems hardly to have been 
realized. It is of the first importance tbat their real char- 
acter should be clearly apprehended. 

They are, in reality, nothing less than appeals made in 
the only possible way.and in the way obviously appointed, 
directly to the source of truth, to the Divine Being, who 
through this method reveals to man the changeless modes 
of his beneficent activity, and also the modes in which 
man may cooperate with this activity.^ Through ways of 

* Those who caDnot see experiment and observation to be such appeals to th 
Deity will, nevertheless, agree in r^arding them as appeals madti directly to na 
tare herself. But this is an expression of which the only intelligible meaning .- 
the one giren in the text. 



25 

human devising the ancient augurs pretended vainly to 
inquire the will of imaginary divinities respecting parti- 
cular human affairs. Now^, employing in all sincerity the 
methods of divine provision, man seeks to learn the will 
of God, in its uniform physical operation, and how he 
may direct his own will in conformity with it. The 
knowledge gained by these methods constitutes mechan- 
ical science. In the light of the present day, it is clearly 
seen that the intrusion of human authority here would be 
a profanation. 

But this has not been the case very long. This is a men- 
tal illumination, at which the civilized portion of the hu- 
man race has only arrived quite recently. Until mechan- 
ical science had its birth, only two or three centuries ago, 
human authority continued to be the sole arbiter in all 
matters of physical belief. No other criterion of physical 
truth had been so much as imagined. From all antiquity 
submission to human authority in matters of physical be- 
lief had been the unquestioned habit of the unlearned and 
the learned alike. 

The consequences of this error have been far reaching. 
In contemplating them, we first observe the intimate na- 
ture of the connection that exists between physical and 
spiritual truth, a connection more intimate than any mind 
is probably able to conceive. In the darkness of the mid- 
dle ages, the same deep obscurity rested upon both. 
While the real source of physical truth remained undis- 
closed, the growing tendency of human thought was to 
hide also the real source of spiritual truth. While sub- 
mission to human authority was universal with respect to 
physical belief, it was not possible that the contrary teach- 
ing of the Bible respecting spiritual belief could be com- 
prehended. Opposite habits of thought respecting these 
two classes of truth could not coexist. In this fact, in 
which once lay the despair, now lies the hope of the 
world. 

The habit of servile acceptance of the dictates of recog- 
nized human authority inevitably extended from physical 
to spiritual beliefs. In this habit is found the funda- 
mental reason, why the teachings of the Christ came, 
through century after century, to be more and more 



buried under human traditions and requirements, why 
the ultimate appeal came more and more to be made to 
human authorities, on all questions both of faith and of 
conduct, and why at last the Christian Church came to re- 
peat the phenomenon of Judaism in its last age, and to 
present the almost complete extinguishment of Divine 
truth in human defilement ; as human authority became 
more outrageous in its exactions, and submission to it be- 
came more degraded in its servility. 

Obtaining the position of general spiritual supremacy in 
Western Europe, and maintaining this position for many 
centuries, under these conditions of thought respecting 
physical beliefs, and when the source of physical truth was 
utterly unrecognized, it was unavoidable that the Church of 
Rome should come to hide, also, the real source of spir- 
itual truth, and should limit appeal to human authority 
also in all matters of spiritual belief. Thus this amazing 
development of human authority over the consciences of 
men followed as the necessary consequence of the uni- 
versal error of submission to human authority in respect 
to physical belief. 

It is true respecting most great movements that their 
origin is obscure. Fundamental causes must be in opera- 
tion for a longtime before their effects begin to appear with 
distinctness. Mechanical science is probably to be regarded 
as one fruit of the Reformation, yet Galileo owned alle- 
giance to the Church of Rome. The spiritual awakening 
was abrupt, and brought conflict and desolation in its train, 
and was followed by a strong and thus far a permanent 
reaction. The mechanical awakening was insensible, but 
has been steady and full of benefactions. 

The vital question common to both was, whether human 
or Divine authority should receive the submission of the 
human mind. A century after Luther and Zwingli, the 
issue was at last distinctly joined between the dictum of 
Aristotle and the demonstration of Galileo, on the physi- 
cal question, whether the velocity of a falling body did or 
did not vary according to the weight of the body. When 
this issue had been decided, then also the enormous and 
hoary structure of spiritual pretension was undermined, 
and the work of emancipation from all forms of human 



27 

authority was really begun. Such is the unity that con- 
nects physical and spiritual truth. 

This event marks the beginning of the great transition 
in the mode and direction of thought, so far as relates im- 
mediately to physical belief. It was more than an event. 
It was a prophecy. It foretold the time when thought 
shall be free, when human authority shall be driven out 
of the temple of spiritual truth as well as out of the temple 
of phsical truth, when, universally and forever, for the 
knowledge of all truth, whether in its physical or in its 
spiritual forms, man, in his individual freedom, shall 
appeal to God alone. 

Even yet, however, such is the influence of conventional 
modes of education, men are not ready to recognize the 
unity of all truth, nor the common source of all weU 
founded belief. 

On the one hand, science, confirming its view to incom- 
plete data, is unable, in what it terms matter, to see 
the principal thing, to behold the revelation of God. 

On the other hand, theologians fail to recognize the 
equal sacredness of all truth, as truth, whatsoever its form 
may be, and so they too are unable, in any proper sense, to 
behold in all physical being the infinite and universal 
presence. 

Both have apparently yet to learn, or at least to realize, 
the great fact, that religion and philosophy are manifes- 
tations of the same truth, expressions of the nature of the 
same Being, between whom and each individual the re- 
lation and connection are immediate and direct. 

Meanwhile the insidious disposition to assert and to sub- 
mit to human authority is still seen, and its despotism is 
felt, in a greater or lesser degree, in all human systems 
of thought, and especially in religious systems. Its 
presence in the latter reveals the admixture of the human 
element, and pretty accurately indicates its proportion. 

It may be well to dwell somewhat longer upon the 
methods of scientific inquiry. The more familiar the mind 
becomes with these methods, the better prepared it will 
be to give proper consideration to the views which have 
already been presented, and especially to those which are 
to follow. 



2S 

Before proceeding further, however, attention should be 
drawn to the distinction which exists between the real 
nature of all scientific methods, as this has been exhibited, 
and the grand consequences that have followed from the 
adoption of these methods, and that must still more largely 
attend their employment in the future, on the one hand, 
and, on the other hand, the frequently limited purposes, 
and even the contrary disposition of individual inquirers. 
These often fail to recognize, and even deny the existence 
of the God to whom, in fact, they continually appeal. 
This distinction is an obvious one, and cannot fail to be 
observed by every candid reader. 

All true science must be destitute of the reverential 
spirit, in the sense in which this term is commonly used. 
If a belief is venerable. that fact tends to raise the presump- 
tion that it is unfounded, since the behefsof more ignorant 
ages have generally been found to be so. The authority of 
Scripture is inadmissible, and this with evident propriety; 
for the subject of inquiry is some form of physical truth, 
and, on any statement contained in the Scriptin^es that 
comes fairly within the scope of physical inquiry, their 
claim to be the Word of God is itself on trial. Be- 
fore this test of agreement with the facts in nature, every 
reUgious system of human origin has gone down, and 
must inevitably do so. since these systems are sure to 
teach, as essential portions of their creeds, some things 
that are proven by science to be false. 

Science is not less destructive of human creations in her 
ministers than in her methods. Here is no priesthood, 
nor ordination, nor privilege, but a pure democracy , where 
the right of private judgment is exercised without re- 
straint, and admission to the mysteries is open to all on 
the same conditions. 

The observations and experiments by which knowledge 
is advanced are repeated by independent inquiries, under 
varied conditions and by all known methods, before the 
results can be accepted as established facts. In this way, 
from age to age, experimental science in all its branches 
makes its slow but certain progress. The discoveries of 
one generation become the familiar truths of the next, are 
taught to children, are turned to account in the arts and 



29 

industries, and so are continually adding to the occupa- 
tions, to the comforts and to the intelligence of mankind. 
The discoveries and inventions, or properly speaking, 
the revelations, which together constitute mechanical 
science, may be grouped under four general heads. These 
are: 

1st. The laws of force and of motion ; 

2d. The operation of these laws, in their application to 
matter in its various forms and states ; 

3d. The forms and properties of matter itself ; and 

4th. The conception of modes in which all these, in the in- 
finite variety of their combinations, are found to be 
practically applied in nature, or in w^hich they can be 
practically applied by man. 

The weight or pressure of the atmosphere, or the mutual 
attraction of the earth and the atmosphere for each other, 
and the amount or degree of this attraction, is a phenom- 
enon that belongs to the second of these groups. The dis- 
covery of this attraction was one of the earliest discoveries 
in modern mechanical science. A brief account of it will 
fitly illustrate the method in which the facts of this science 
have been established ; or the form and mode of the appeal 
that, in all experiments of a mechanical nature, whether 
these are successful or unsuccessful, is made to the infinite 
source of truth, and in which the revelation of all physical 
truth is given, in answer to such appeal. 

So far as we have any knowledge, the idea that the 
atmosphere might have weight or exert a pressure never 
occurred to the philosophers of antiquity. During the 
earlier period of the revival of learning in Europe, the 
question was occasionally discussed, and was always de- 
cided in the negative. No such pressure could be felt. 
All experience and sensation seemed to be opposed to the 
idea of its existence. 

Men were everywhere using their rude devices for rais- 
ing; water in pumps, without the least idea of what they 
were doing. The action that was taking place before their 
eyes never entered into their comprehension. If any one 
had told them that, in raising a pump bucket, they were 



30 

lifting a portion of the weight of the atmosphere from the 
water under the hacket, so that the excess of this press- 
ure, exerted on the surface of the water in the well, 
would force the column of water in the pump barrel up 
after the bucket, there were centuries when such a teacher 
would have been in danger of being burned up. 

This, with all similar phenomena, was explained by the 
dictum, that nature abhorred a vacuum. This nonsense 
passed for science through many an age. It is interesting 
to recall the long period, during which this was assumed 
as an axiom that no one dared to question. But are there 
not now conventional absurdities, from which we must 
ourselves become free before we can be entitled to smile at 
that one ? And are we not ourselves surrounded by truths, 
which in reality are as palpable as that of the weight of 
the atmosphere, but which our eyes have not yet been 
opened to see ? 

The raising of the question, whether the atmosphere 
might have weight, was itself a notable event, as marking 
the beginning of scientific inquiry. But an experiment 
was tried, which was long regarded among the learned as 
settling this question in the negative. This experiment 
consisted in weighing a bladder, when distended with air, 
and when empty. No difference in the weight could ever 
be detected. 

The power of observation, which was to be developed only 
by the study of nature, did not then exist, that would en- 
able men to detect the fallacy in this experiment. This 
fallacy lay in the unobserved fact, that the bladder was 
filled with, and immersed in, the same fluid. Whether 
full or approximately empty, it always displaced, in addi- 
tion to its own proper bulk, very nearly the same weight 
of air that it contained. A similar experiment would just 
as well prove water, or even mercury, to be without 
weight. So this great fact was yet hidden from men. 
Copernicus, Galileo died without the sight. 

In endeavoring to raise water from a deep well in Flor- 
ence, it was found possible to lift it only about thirty-two 
feet, which led Galileo to observe, that nature, evidently, 
did not abhor a vacuum above thirty-two feet. Dying, 
Galileo commended the investigation of this subject to his 



31 

pupil and successor, Torricelli. The reflections of Torricelli 
led him to the conviction that the atmosphere must have 
weight, and that it must be by its pressure that the water 
was caused to rise in the pump barrel. In considering how 
this question might be tested, he at last thought of mer- 
cury. This substance, being between thirteen and four- 
teen times heavier than water, would be caused by the 
same pressure, if it existed, to rise only about thirty 
inches. So he reasoned that, by the employment of mer- 
cury, the effect of this pressure might be observed in a 
glass tube. 

It is interesting to imagine the feelings of this philoso- 
pher, when preparing for this experiment, which was so 
remarkable at once for its simplicity, its conclusiveness, 
and its importance. It was almost as simple as that of 
standing the egg on its end, yet no other finite mind had 
conceived it. Was it with trembling expectation, or in the 
calmness of conscious strength, that he filled with mer- 
cury his glass tube, four feet in length, sealed at one end, 
placed his finger over the open end, inverted the tube, 
plunged the open end in a vessel half filled with mercury, 
and then — removed his finger ? 

What were the emotions with which he saw the column 
of mercury fall, and after completing the oscillations pro- 
duced by its momentum, stand at a height of between 
twenty-nine and thirty inches, in equilibrium with the 
pressure of the atmosphere on the same area of surface of 
the mercury in the vessel ; or with which he realized the 
fact that the glass tube above the column of mercury 
enclosed the absolute void, then first obtained by man, 
since only approximations to it could bo reached in the 
pump barrel, and which was ever after to be known as the 
Torricellian Vacuum ? And what would his emotions have 
been, if he could have imagined, what, indeed, no one can 
adequately conceive, the influence that this discovery was 
to exert, in promoting the industries and the civilization 
of his race ?* 

* Belief in nature's horror of a vacuum died hard, however. The account of 
the repetition of Torricelli's experiment by Pascal,and his correspondence on this 
subject wiuh Jesuit Fathers, in the 4th volume of his works, Paris ed., 1819, is de» 
lightful reading. 



32 

The discovery of the pressure of the atmosphere was 
one of those discoveries by which the boundaries of our 
knowledge have been enlarged in an unusual degree. It 
was a radical discovery, and out of it there have sprung 
an endless series of discoveries and inventions, which, 
while they have contributed in an incalculable measure to 
the material welfare of man, have, at the same time, ad- 
ded still further to the extent of his knowledge and to the 
power of his understanding. 

We here close the present consideration of the subject 
of the criterion of truth. In subsequent papers it will be 
resumed, and considered from other points of view. In 
those connections we will trace more particularly the reve- 
lation of mechanical constructions. 



33 



SUPERSTITION. 



Mechanical science is the angel whose spear has van- 
quished the demon of superstition. The source of this 
power in mechanical science is no secret. It is the science 
which penetrates to the causes of phenomena. Force, in 
the various forms of its manifestation, is, as has been ob- 
served already, the cause of all phenomena whatever. 
But force is unseen. It is hidden from the apprehension 
of rude and ignorant races. To them nature is full of 
mysteries. Their minds are without guidance in their 
imaginative or form-constructing activity. Every phan- 
tom becomes to them a reality. They people the earth and 
air with spiritual representations of their own dispositions, 
and tremble before their conceptions of natures like their 
own invested with unhmited power. Their minds become 
the abodes of superstition and credulity. 

The dawn of light on this darkness is the development 
of the knowledge of force, in its unvarying and beneficent 
activity. This is not the full light ; it is only the dawn. 

Mechanical science is a science that diffuses itself, and 
exerts a wholesome influence throughout the masses of 
every civilized society, even where the very term " sci- 
cence'" is unknown. It is the foundation of what is called 
"common sense,'' which is an orderly habit of thought 
and a disposition to look for natural and reasonable causes 
for phenomena. 

Confining our attention to the most enlightened na- 
tions of the world, we observe that, before the general 
cultivation of mechanical science, unlimited creduhty made 
men everywhere the victims of ghostly authority. We 
see superstitions and delusions controlling the most culti- 
vated minds, and, springing out of these, we see irrational 
and erratic habits of thought prevailing, with little check 
or guide. 

Although there is still an abundance of all this to be 
seen, showing at once the incompleteness and the need of 
the work of mechanical science, still the influence already 
exerted by this science, and the results accomplished by it. 



34 

in substituting, in place of these vagaries, reasonable and 
correct methods of inquiry, and habits of thought based 
upon and guided by fixed principles and laws, have 
already been greater and more important than can be 
adequately conceived. Illustrations like the following in- 
dicate both the extent and the fundamental nature of this 
influence. 

Institutions of learning do not now esteem relics as 
their most precious possessions. Men of science do not 
now make a business of calculating nativities. Courts of 
justice do not now gravely engage in the trial of witches. 
But when mechanical science had its birth, in the age of 
Galileo and his successors, they did all these things. 
These and like absurdities, which only about tw;o centuries 
ago were regarded as so serious, mankind has outgrown 
wherever mechanical science has been cultivated, and 
largely through its influence. 

The word /^superstition" is properly employed to ex- 
press any unfounded belief, and the disposition that ac- 
cepts such beliefs with readiness is properly called super- 
stitious. The practical way in which mechanical science 
goes about the work of destroying this monster, where- 
ever it finds it, is readily exhibited. 

Whatever be the particular direction that thought may 
take, human nature always manifests itself in essentially 
the same way. So it is the case in mechanics, as well as 
in other branches of science, and in speculative philo- 
sophy, that vagaries, more or less visionary, are appearing 
continually. In all these departments of thought alike, 
it is constantly occurring that absurdities are being urged 
upon the attention of men. This is a general manifesta- 
tion of the perverse tendency of thinkers, so-called, to be 
captivated by the work of their own imagination, and to 
proclaim this as the truth. 

But there is a wide difference in the credence that these 
mechanical and philosophical speculations command. Me- 
chanical science possesses the important advantage of 
being able to bring all conceits that appear in her realm 
sharply to the test of experiment. " How will it work ?" 
is the pitiless question, and but little interest can be 



35 

aroused in any supposed invention until this question has 
been satisfactorily answered. 

One occasionally hears of a person who is cherishing a 
pet mechanical conceit. It is opposed to mechanical prin- 
ciples ; but he is quite innocent of these, and^ as they 
antagonize his supposed invention, he cannot admit them 
into his mind. He is sure of the soundness of his plan. 
It takes complete possession of him. Some one is induced, 
or more probably a number of persons together, to con- 
struct a machine which shall at the same time demonstrate 
the invention, and show the inventor to the world. 

A trial is made, and lo ! as was the case a few years ago 
with a propelling apparatus that was constructed on what 
was represented to be a new principle, and which, when 
it came to be tried, was found to produce no effect in 
moving the boat in any direction, the whole thing vanishes 
into thin air. And the reflection of the thoughtful observer 
is : " What a pity that the same disposition cannot be as 
quickly and effectually made of the vain speculations 
which, under the name of philosophy, are continually 
wearying the ear." Here, for want of checks that can 
be promptly applied, we see advocates of all sorts of 
theories doing serious harm by confident assertions and 
plausible reasonings, which one experiment, if only it 
could be fairly tried, would dissipate forever. 

Mechanical science operates powerfully, however, to 
reach absurdities of the latter character also, by its indi- 
rect influence and the general habit of thought that it 
developes. It thus becomes, in the largest sense, an im- 
portant educator, and one whose influence is felt through- 
out the masses of society. 

Men who, in any department of mechanics with which 
they are acquainted, observe continually the natural adap- 
tation of means to ends, become accustomed to the uni- 
form operation of unvarying laws, and see idle conceits, 
formed in contravention of these laws, continually exposed 
and thrown aside. In this way they insensibly acquire a 
stability of character and correct habits of thought, and are 
not likely to be led away by delusions of any sort. 

They observe that in mechanics there exist fundamental 
principles which must be regarded, and they naturally 



36 

look everywhere else also for general requirements of a 
corresponding nature. They become accustomed to rea- 
soning with some degree of precision, and vague generah- 
ties have little or no effect upon their minds. They con- 
sider, correctly enough, that absurdities are quite as likely 
to arise in other departments of thought as they are in 
mechanics ; and they come to be on their guard against 
specious novelties, in whatever form these may be pre- 
sented. 

In a later paper the opportunity will be found for giving 
to this line of thought a more particular direction. We 
may properly observe here, that, at the present day, when 
free thought is coming to be more and more general, and 
the minds of the masses of men are awakening to an in- 
creased activity, it is certainly a gratifying feature of the 
case, calling for sincere congratulation, that there exists a 
conservative iofluence so strong, and at the same time so 
all-pervading, as mechanical science has shown itself 
to be. 

It is difficult to draw a line between the destructive and 
the constructive forces of mechanical science : just as it is 
difficult to distinguish between the effects of light, in dis- 
sipating the phantoms and chimeras that fiUed the dark- 
ness, and in revealing the world around us in its reality. 
So also the direct and the indirect influences which are 
exerted by this science blend insensibly with one another. 
It must be sufficient, therefore, merely to caU attention to 
those distinctions, without attempting to observe them 
strictly in our argument. These being borae in mind, all 
the beneficent influences of mechanical science may prop- 
erly be considered together. 



SI 



THE JUDICIAL SPIRIT, 



I 



In a former paper I have endeavored to show the in- 
fluence of mechanical science, in combating one weakness 
that is common to men, namely, the disposition to assume 
and to submit to authority in matters of belief. 

We have now to observe an influence of an equally 
healthful character, that is exerted by this science with 
equal force in resisting another weakness more subtle, 
and if possible more dangerous, than that. 

As in that case, so in this also, the work of mechanical 
science will be found to be, not negative merely, but 
affirmative as well. In both alike, it tears down only 
that it may build up. There we found this science to 
establish individual freedom of thought, and direct access 
to the infinite source of truth. Here it will be found de- 
veloping that spirit or disposition by which only it is pos- 
sible for truth to be apprehended. 

Many minds are found, even among men of intellectual 
power and influence, which are accustomed, in a greater 
or lesser degree, to look within themselves for the criterion 
of truth. Such persons seem irresistibly inclined to be- 
lieve that because anything appears to them to be true, 
therefore it is true. They would hesitate to declare this 
in so many words. Indeed, they would most likely be 
offended, if their real mental operations were exposed, 
even to themselves. But in reality they can never bring 
themselves to see that, although a certain idea may appear 
to them to by true, that fact in itself does not afford the 
least reason for concluding that it is true; that truth must 
be established by evidence existing wholly outside of their 
own minds; that, in balancing the reasons for and against 
any belief, the belief itself, even though it be held by 
themselves, ought to weigh nothing. 

This weakness is exhibited bv different minds in various 
degrees. Indeed, it is doubtful if there lives a man who 
is entirely free from it, who in examining a question 
about which he already holds a belief, can in all cases, 



3S 

bring to the consideration of that question a perfectly 
judicial spirit, can distinguish absolutely between the 
proper evidence and his own prepossessions, and can form 
an unbiassed judgment. Many men, it is true, are found 
capable of forming singularly impersonal judgments on 
many questions, but we shall catch them somewhere. On 
some side of their minds prejudice is sure to appear. The 
necessity for ignoring all prepossessions if the truth is to 
be seen, if the idea formed in the mind is to c(-nform to the 
reality, is obvious; but who is there that can always do 
this? 

There are cases in which this weakness appears in its 
extremest form ; in which it is obvious that, habitually, 
the necessity is not perceived for bestowing much atten- 
tion upon external evidence, and still less for giving 
weight to the views of others; but the mind is satisfied 
with the short train of reasoning already stated; the in- 
dividual being probably unconscious of his weakness, 
may, willingly blind to it. 

It is interesting to consider what must be the major 
premise of the syllogism, from which a conclusion of this 
nature can be drawn. This is, that, so far at least as 
relates to the question at issue, my knowledge is infinite, 
all things in reality are just as they appear to me to be. 
It is only on this general assumptioD, that any one can 
say or can feel: "this appears to me to be true, therefore I 
am satisfied that it is true." 

The fact of this common weakness of our nature ex- 
plains why so little progress towards the establishment of 
truth is usually made by discussions, and why the curious 
result is almost always observed to follow from these, that 
each side is more firmly fixed in its own belief than it 
was before. 

This infirmity is one of the principal causes of sectarian- 
ism in rehgion. The division of the Protestant Christian 
world into sects presents a most interesting phenomenon. 
A survey of the multitude of religious sects that have ap- 
peared since the Reformation shows that, at the bottom, 
modern sectarianism has been a natural extreme reaction 
from the bondage to spiritual authority, and to enforced 
uniformity of behef, which had been the condition of the 



39 

same races for many centuries. At the same time, the 
tendencies to superadd human inventions upon divine 
truth, to express that truth in formulas which reflect the 
hmited and perverted conceptions of it that are formed by 
men, and to exercise and submit to spiritual despotism, 
have shown their universal characters, by appearing also 
in degrees more or less marked in every Protestant or- 
ganization. 

The sectarian feeling is that disposition which seeks after 
distinctive peculiarities of belief, and which cherishes these 
points of difference with especial zeal. Sometimes this 
feeling finds its excuse in attributing undue importance to 
particular truths. Sometimes it is seen in attachment to a 
cherished notion, vrhich, in reality, is immaterial, or even 
unwarranted. Most Christian sects show the enduring im- 
press of some commanding but necessarily imperfect 
mind, which for its adherents in some degree takes the 
place of and hides the Christ . There are cases in which 
the distinctive peculiarity of the sect, about which its mem- 
bers are strenuous above all other things, is something 
very whimsical. 

Sectarian feelings are the opposite of Christian feelings. 
Sectarianism is directly at variance with the unity which 
the Christ so earnestly prayed might exist among his dis- 
ciples. The observations which are suggested by sectarian- 
ism are therefore not observations upon Christianity, but 
upon its opposite. 

When once a religious sect has been formed, multiplied 
and sometimes extensive associations and interests become 
involved in the maintenance of its separate existence. 
These interests and associations are, of course, quite dis- 
tinct from any logical reason for the separate existence of 
such a sect. Xevertheless, they sometimes become the 
principal motives for its continuance. 

These interests and associations impel to strenuous, and 
in some cases to extreme, defences of the distinctive tenets 
of the sect, although these tenets may have been formu- 
lated under conditions of thought which are now obviously 
imperfect, and which, in developing to a rounder and 
fuller spiritual life, Christians have outgrown, or are out- 
growing. 



40 

Upon a comprehensive view of this subject it becomes 
apparent that sectarianism belongs to the period of spirit- 
ual childhood. It presents every characteristic of this 
age. In this earlier period of human development, out 
of the conditions of which it sprang, and to which it has 
been, and still is, although in a continually diminishing 
degree, adapted, sectarianism has had its essential mis- 
sion to fulfil. 

It exists, however, only as a step to something higher. 
Antagonism, which is of the earth, earthly, must pass into 
concord, which is from heaven. The human must give 
place to the divine. Mature spiritual life rises far above 
many trifles which have appeared of such solemn import- 
ance. 

The tendency to sectarian division has passed its cul- 
minating point. The current of Christian feeling is now 
clearly in the opposite direction. The antagonisms of a 
former age are something that christians at the present 
day can only with difficulty form an idea of. The period 
of Christian unity is evidently approaching. All the novel 
influences by which men are now surrounded, and of 
which they are only partly conscious, are insensibly oper- 
ating to bring the minds of individuals, in the exercise of 
their free activity, into a state of charity and harmony, 
with regard to spiritual truth. 

Among the influences which are tending to liberate the 
mind from bondage to all the inventions of men those 
that are exerted by mechanical science must be accorded 
a prominent place. That which may be termed the ex- 
ternal influence of this science, or that influence which it 
exerts in breaking down the barriers that have separated 
and isolated from each other the various races of man- 
kind, with the immediate effect of destroying prejudices, 
enlarging the range of thought, multiplying human rela- 
tions, and broadening human sympathies, all this work 
of mechanical science is, of course, obvious. 

But deeper than this is its influence upon thought. Not 
only has it contributed to make thought free, but its 
influence is exerted even more strongly to give to free 
thought its proper direction. Anticipating in some degree 
the conclusions of a subsequent paper, we may observe 



I 



41 

here that mechanical science gives precision and definite- 
ness to the use of language, substitutes ideas of uniform- 
ity in place of those of caprice, and destroys the delusion 
that truth is to be arrived at by speculative methods. 

There are no sects in mechanics. Xo warring schools 
contend here, as in medicine. Xo conflicting views are 
put forth and battled for in mechanics. And why ? Be- 
cause mechanical science appeals at once to the infallible 
criterion of truth. ''Thus saith the Lord*' is the only 
declaration to which it yields its assent. For the most part 
tiuconsciously.but none the less really on that account, and 
none the less trustingly, the engineer listens for the voice of 
God. TVlienever this voice is clearly heard it is recognized 
with gladness, and thus we have mechanical scienxe. 

The power of mechanical science in correcting false 
methods of thought lies partly in the fact that all its 
conclusions must be based on evidence which exists 
wholly outside the individual. It appears, indeed, . to 
the superficial observer as if the very weaknesses 
the nature of which has just been exposed were 
especially liable to appear in mechanics. This, however, 
is because in mechanics absurdities are always detected, 
and are shown in their true light. In other departments 
of thought these often pass for wisdom. 

Before the tests of truth that mechanical science em- 
ploys, all preconceptions and prejudices, all influences of 
association or of education or habits of thought, aU mere 
words, which, however estabhshed by usage, or imposed 
by dogmatic autliority, in reahty mean nothing, all pride 
of opinion or of place, all conceit as to anything that for 
any reason may strike the mind favorably, aU these things 
that so darken the understanding, and render it incapable 
of apprehending truth, or of giving to different truths their 
proper relative importance, are at once and forever swept 
away. 

The individual may, and often does, cling to mechanical 
delusions, in which case he also disappears. The practical 
application of an idea in a working machine frequently de- 
stroys in an hour the cherished fancies of years. From 
this crucial test no inventor can escape. It searches, not 
only his work, but also himself. It reveals at once his 



42 

genius, his knowledge and his disposition. The latter is 
generally the real thing, or at least it indicates the posses- 
sion or the want of the real thing. 

No one who conceives of himself as already knowing 
anything that he has not profoundly and experimentally 
studied, no one who brings to his work the disposition that 
has been described in this paper, can ever either produce 
anything or learn anything in mechanics. He exemplifies 
the proverb : " Though thou shouldst bray a fool in a mor- 
tar, among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness 
depart from him." 

A good illustration of this disposition recently came un- 
der my observation. A legal gentlemen of an unusually 
acute and discriminating mind, but who, of course, had 
been trained to see the truth onJy in his side of a contro- 
versy, conceived himself to be an inventor, and, of all the 
foolishness in the world, he hit upon that of making rail- 
way cars to run upon skates instead of on wheels. He 
actually obtained a patent for this invention, and then pro- 
ceeded to urge it upon the attention of engineers. 

The case was an interesting one from a psychological 
point of view. Argument was wasted on him. He was 
asked, '*' How will your skates slide on the greased rails, 
when, as will happen directly, they become covered with 
dust adhering to them ?" ' ' That, gentlemen," he replied 
with an air of triumph, as if he were destroying the effect 
of the question on the mind of a court, '' is something for 
you to provide against." 

The conversation then took this form : He was asked, 
^' Did you ever hear of the mechanical device, termed the 
wheel and axle ?" 

*'0, most certainly, gentlemen ; you cannot teach me 
anything about that." 

" You know, then, that one of its offices is to reduce the 
loss from friction ; that it accomplishes this object by 
diminishing, very greatly, the amount of sliding motion of 
one surface upon another, transforming that which is so 
got rid of into rolling motion ; and that the small surfaces 
that still slide on each other are certainly lubricated, and 
protected from dust." 

"Gentlemen," he rephed with energy, " I have absolute 



4B 

confidence in the value of my invention. All that I re- 
quire is capital to enable me to demonstrate it." 

^' You will need for that purpose," his interlocutors an- 
swered, "about twenty- five dollars. With this sum you 
will make a little model, on which the difference can be 
shown at once between the power required to move, say, 
five pounds, along a line of rails when set on skates, and 
when carried on wheels." 

The suggestion was resented, as trifling with his inven- 
tion. 

This example illustrates the character of mind that truth 
cannot enter, a mind that is completely occupied already 
with its own prepossessions. Yet such a mind is not 
wholly self deceived. While loudly proclaiming the cer- 
tainty of its belief, it is careful to avoid a fair test of it. 
Minds of this character prefer, generally, some department 
of thought, in which their dogmas cannot be brought to 
the test of an observation. This is the disposition that 
controversy developes, and perpetuates itself by developing 
it. It is the disposition which is m all respects the op- 
posite of that which mechanical science demands, and 
which all the influences of this science combine to pro- 
duce. 

Let us now, by way of contrast, suppose a disposition 
of the latter kind, and approximations to which are by no 
means rare, in the case of a real inventor, who is possessed 
of that choice gift, a judicial spirit; a spirit humble, 
teachable and honest, both with itself and others. Such 
a man conceives of something new, and w^hich appears to 
him to be practicable. In reflecting on his idea, he finds 
after a while that he has reached a point, from which he 
can make no further progress by thinking. His invention 
has been matured in his mind, so far as he can go. 

He now proceeds to construct his machine, or apparatus, 
or whatever the device may be, according to the light he 
has. Then he puts it into operation, sits down before it 
like a little child, opens his mind wide to receive instruc- 
tion, and lets the invention itself teach him, by its practi- 
cal working. 

His spirit being entirely receptive, he is sure to receive 
the revelation. This revelation may be, it often is, that 



44 

his scheme is radically defective, that his idea was a delu- 
sion, that there is nothing in it. 

He recognizes the infallible character of the criterion 
to which he has appealed, and perceives the demonstration 
of the unwelcome truth in its full force. It costs him a 
pang and a tear, but, as he sees his dreams melt away, he 
feels that he has learned something, that he has been to 
the fountain of knowledge and has received instruction, 
and that he is capable of better things than he was capable 
of before. 

Instead of total condemnation, the disclosure may be, 
that something he never thought of, just in the last place 
he would have expected, is wrong or is wanting. Some- 
times defects will appear that puzzle him, and the nature 
of which can only be discovered by long study. Perhaps, 
again, the revelation may be, if the scheme is a radically 
new one it is pretty sure to be, that extensive changes of 
a radical nature must be made, before the invention can 
be fairly judged of. All real inventions are slowly reached 
through just such discouraging revelations. 

A fact here confronts us, that is well suited to command 
our attention. In every attempt made by man to produce 
anything of a novel character, something is sure to be 
wrong. No finite intelhgence ever, on the first attempt, 
produced or conceived of, even the simplest thing, in the 
form that was finally found to be correct and satisfactory. 
This is a fact of human experience. One who imagines 
that he would form an exception to this law, would be the 
last of all to approximate to initial excellence. 

An individual may, from a knowledge of general princi- 
ples, and from familiarity with like attempts, be able to 
say, in any particular case, what will not answer; to de- 
tect, perhaps at a glance, defects that are hidden from 
others; but whenever he attempts to produce anything 
new, even in the field with which he is most familiar, 
something will certainly escape him, until it is revealed in 
practical operation. The variety of possible conditions and 
combinations is so great, and the range of our thought is 
so closely limited to our previous experience, that suc- 
cessful inventors always come to be astonished at the 
crudity of their first attempts. 



45 

It should be observed, that the word " new" is rarely- 
employed in an absolute sense. In the comparative use of 
this word, there are endless degrees of novelty. Generally, 
in mechanics the word ''new" is employed to mean merely 
new arrangements, or the application to new uses, of de- 
vices which are familiar. In some of the more simple of 
these novel combinations of familiar devices, it occasionally 
happens that a person of experience in their use, by care- 
ful study, succeeds in his first attempt. But, on the other 
hand, for any finite mind to enter upon that which is new 
in mechanics, in anything like the absolute sense of that 
term, is like entering an unknown sea, whose extent and 
every indentation of whose shores must be learned by ob- 
servation. 

The fact is an obvious one to every candid mind, and is 
one which all experience impresses more deeply, that only 
an infinite intelligence can comprehend beforehand, and 
can embrace in its view, all the conditions and requirements 
that will manifest themselves in the operation of a new 
device. Man must grope his way through darkness into 
the light. 

The following general conclusions seem to be warranted, 
as the clear teaching of mechanical science respecting 
physical truth: 

First. — Although the mind may be wholly unconscious 
with whom it has communed, this truth is to be found by 
it only through a direct appeal to the infinite source of 
truth; and 

Second. — Only the teachable spirit, completely emptied 
of self, can recognize the existence of the source of truth, 
or can receive the revelation of truth which is always ready 
to be imparted. 

These conclusions are here limited to physical truth. As 
we advance in this discussion their universal nature will 
appear, even before we come to observe the unity of phy- 
sical and spiritual truth. \ 






46 



THE UNITY OF THE MIND, 



In reflecting on the general subject of these papers, I 
have found myself embarrassed by the term '•'faculty/' 
and the meaning that is affixed to this term; comprehend- 
ing, as it is made to do, certain functions and activities of 
the mind, to the exclusion of others. 

Thus, according to the accepted systems of philosophy, 
we possess the faculty of the reason, the perceptive facul- 
ties, the faculty of the will, the faculties of memory and 
imagination, the aesthetic faculty, and the faculty by which 
we distinguish right from wrong. To these some theolo- 
gians have added the faith faculty. 

On the other hand, in all existing systems, the emo- 
tional nature is represented as being without faculties. 
Nothing is admitted to be a faculty, that does not come 
within the category of what are termed the intellecual 
powers. We can, therefore, have no faculties with which 
we rejoice or grieve, or love or hate. We do all these 
things, but we do them without the employment of any 
faculties. 

After a while I began to inquire what the word "facul- 
ty*' really means. It is a word in universal use, a com- 
ponent of accepted formulas of speech ; and, until one has 
broken through the thick ice of conventionalism, it cer- 
tainly appears as if this word ''faculty" must represent 
some kind of a reality. It pretends to convey an idea of 
something definite and substantial. But the least scruti- 
ny exhibits the fact that all these " faculties '" are noth- 
ing but figments of the brain. 

In our philosophies the mind has been divided and subdi- 
vided, and these divisions have been classified and ar- 
ranged into systems; and such methods oi' analyses are 
taught by teachers who have themselves been taught 
them, just as if these divisions of the mind, instead of be- 
ing wholly imaginary, were as real and substantial as are 
the physical divisions of the earth. 

The result of the examination that I have been able to 



47 

give to this subject is the conviction that the mind or 
spirit is a unit, and that in all its operations it acts as one 
whole indivisible being; that therefore the divisions de- 
scribed by philosophers have no existence, and all these 
substantive terms are only conventional expressions, that 
represent no realities. 

The spirit is a unit. What have been termed faculties, 
as well as the operations of what is distinguished as the 
emotional nature, are only the different modes of our spir- 
itual activity; into each form of which activity, as this 
form is determined by the occasion, the spirit directs its 
whole power. 

The spirit is a unit. It is the same conscious self that 
both thinks and feels, that performs every mental opera- 
tion and is sensitive to every moral impulse. 

It is the one self-conscious indivisible being, that suc- 
cessively observes and remembers, that reflects upon the 
images that it has formed in consciousness by observing, 
and which it retains or recalls there by remembering, that 
judges, that decides, that resolves, that impels to speech 
or bodily activity, that constructs imaginary forms, that 
grieves or rejoices, that loves or hates, that is true or de- 
ceitful. 

It is the one conscious intellectual, moral and emotional 
unit, in its completeness, that exercises itself as such unit, 
in each and all of these different ways, as the occasion 
calls for such exercise, and in each one according to its 
development in power and in disposition. 

As the sun light, though manifold in its composition, is 
a unit, and as all life which it calls into being would be 
different in some respect, if the constitution of the sun- 
light were in any particular different, so every act that we 
perform, every thought to which we give shape and every 
emotion that we feel would be in some respect a different 
act or thought or emotion, if our whole combined intellec- 
tual, moral and emotional nature were in any particular 
different from what it is. Every act and thought and feel- 
ing is the act or thought or feeling of our spiritual being 
as a whole. 

IS^o intelligible meaning can be affixed to the term '* fac- 
ulty," except "a mode of exercise," *'a form of spiritual 



48 

activity." In the ordinary substantive sense of this term, 
if indeed any one can define this sense, there are no such 
things as faculties. 

The incorrectness of saying that we possess faculties is 
abundantly exposed by the fact, that when we are once 
accustoraed to admit this form of expression, we do not 
perceive the absurdity of proceeding further, and saying 
that we possess minds, or even that we possess souls. The 
fact is, we are minds, and what have been termed the fac- 
ulties of our jiiinds are in reality only some of the various 
forms or modes of ouj* spiritual activity. 

It is a curious and instructive study to trace the origin 
of this arbitrary division of the mind into these imaginary 
distinct and unrelated faculties. These divisions were ob- 
viously the product of a rude process of thought similar to 
that which evolved the system of polytheism. 

In earlier ages men observed the various di^^sions of 
natural objects, but had no conception of the unity in 
which these divisions are combined. They created, there- 
fore, in their imaginations a separate divinity over each 
one of them. Then, observing in the same isolated fashion 
their own different occupations and interests, they imag- 
ined other divinities, also, presiding over each one of these. 
The tendency of the heathen mind has always been to 
multiply these imaginary deities. 

The conception of one God is the most sublime of all 
possible conceptions. Science has shown the unity of the 
creation, a unity comprehending the universe, and which 
is expressed by its name. It has thus demonstrated the 
truth of this conception of one Supreme Being. 

We are taught that this great truth of the divine unity 
was imparted to mankind by direct revelation. The ob- 
servation of the uniform tendency of the mind in the 
opposite direction, or to the multiplication of divinities, as 
illustrated in all pagan history, affords strong confirmation 
of this doctrine. If, however, any doubt remains that a 
direct revelation was necessary in order that the truth of 
one God should enter the human mind, that doubt must 
be removed when one considers the persistent tendency of 
our thought to division, as this is exhibited in modern 
mental philosophy. 



4:9 

Precisely as men reasoned, if indeed the term ''reason" 
can be employed in such a connection, in creatine^ their 
separate divinities, so they have reasoned in imagining 
separate mental faculties. 

They observed the members of their bodies, and saw 
that each one of these members had a separate and dis- 
tinct office to perform, and which it was expressly fitted 
for performing ; as, for example, the eyes for seeing, and 
the limbs for walking. From this observation they were 
led to conceive of their minds, as being also composed of 
members, each one of which was ex|Dressly adapted to the 
performance of separate and distinct functions. These 
several mental operations were arranged in classes or 
divisions, without much regard to the unity that com- 
prehends them all. and a member or faculty of the mind 
was imagined, adapted to perform each one of these 
classes of operations. So these imaginary faculties re- 
ceived from the philosophers, just as the divinities did 
from the poets* pen, their **' names and habitations.'' 

The description and classification of these imaginary 
faculties, and the definition of the boundaries allotted to 
each one, or of its especial function, is called mental phil- 
osophy. 

In this operation of cutting up the mind, a difficulty was 
encountered when the dissectors came to the acts of rejoic- 
ing and sorrowing, of loving and hating, and of speaking 
or acting truly or falsely. It was evident that these must 
be the acts of the spirit in its unity. Xo ingenuity could 
contiive separate members to which the performance of 
these acts should be committed. 

The difficulty was met after the heroic or Alexandiine 
fashion. AVJiat were regaixled as the moral and emotional 
parts of our nature were denied the possession of faculties. 
Moreover, being destitute of these appendages, it was 
obvious to the philosophic mind that this supposed separ- 
ate department of our spiritual being was not entitled to 
scientific consideration, in any such sense as that in which 
this consideration was bestowed on the intellect, which 
was held to be blest with the exclusive possession of facul- 
ties. 

Philosophers, essentially repeating one another continu- 



50 

ally, have been blind to the fact that, in assuming the reality 
of this artificial and wholly imaginary system, they have 
ignored the supreme element of spiritual existence, and 
the highest form of activity in their own nature, in a de- 
gree that is fatal to any conception of truth in its unity, 
or to the conception of the real nature of truth. 

Now, it is submitted that it is high time that all this 
work of the imagination should follow the classical deities, 
which, in the conceptions of their adorers, were once so 
real that they could not be spoken against, but which have 
not now a worshipper ; and that the recognition of the 
supreme truth of one Grod should be supplemented by the 
recognition of the truth of the unity of the human mind. 

The importance of this latter truth, and the necessity for 
its recognition, if any progress is to be made in the appre- 
hension of spiritual realities, will become abundantly evi- 
dent as we advance in this discussion. Moreover, it will 
be seen that practical consequences of a most serious and 
injurious nature follow from this doctrine of divisions of 
the mind, a doctrine which has been universally accepted, 
as if these divisions really existed, instead of being imagin- 
ary parts of the spirit of man, which, in reality is indivisi- 
ble. The artificial and mistaken habit of thought which 
has thus been engendered affects disastrously both our 
systems of education and our religious conceptions. 



51 



MECHANICAL SCIENCE 

AND 

THE REASON. 



In a preceding paper reference has been made to a class 
of persons who, fi'om whatever cause, are, in fact, not 
honest seekers after truth. The ascertainment of truth is 
not the real object of men who belong to the class referred 
to, how^ever the}' may persuade others, and even them- 
selves, to the contrary. 

The real purpose of such persons is to strengthen them- 
selves in a belief already formed. They are laboring to 
sustain their theory, to maintain their position, to carry 
their point. They always have a feeling of anxiety 
about the result of their inquiries, a feeling that is quite at 
variance with a judicial disposition, and which marks the 
advocate. 

We come now to consider another class of thinkers, and 
a numerous class at the present day, who are more agree- 
able to contemplate. This class is made up of men who, 
for the most part, are sincere in their search after truth, 
but who make the mistake of supposing that truth is to be 
ascertained by the mere exercise of their reasoning powers. 

This influential body of men, led by profound and acute 
minds, present a study of the greatest interest. What- 
ever may be the differences, and these are endless, in the 
particulars of their belief, they all agree in one thing, and 
may be grouped together as rationalists. All forms of 
rationalism unite in claiming supreme authority for "the 
unaided human reason." In this the rationalists repeat 
the philosophy of antiquity, and they likewise imitate that 
philosophy in employing *' empiricism " as a term of re- 
proach. 

Kationalism delights in confusion of thought. It ex- 
ists only by virtue of confusion of thought. When this 
confusion shall be reduced to order rationalism must 
cease. It disregards the broad and fundamental distinc- 



52 

tion between reasoning and observing. It claims for the 
reason every discovery in science and every invention in 
mechanics, when it is certain that all these are revelations 
to man. which are received by him either wholly, or at 
least primarily, through the methods of experiment and 
observation. 

Thus, using words in a loose and incorrect manner, 
rationalism ascribes to the reason a vague and boundless 
authority. It worships this imaginary faculty, this crea- 
tion of its own hands. 

The influence that is exerted byrationahstic teaching at 
the present day is very great. It is felt in every depart- 
ment of thought. It affects largely the teaching heard 
from the pulpit. This influence is wholly pernicious. 
Under it the mind becomes lost in endless mazes of error. 
The more brilliant the will-o'the-wisp that allures into 
any of the vagaries of rationahsm. the more hopeless the 
entaDglement becomes. Confidence in the conclusions if 
the reason is a delusion that is all the more fascinating 
and dangerous, because it flatters the pride of inttUectj a 
conceit that, hke "the fatal gift of beauty," often turns ' 
the heads of its possessors to their ruin. 

Mechanical science caUs a halt to this vain wandering of 
thought. It shows, and insists upon, the distinction be- 
tween reasoning and observing. It shows that wherever 
mental speculations can be brought to the test of experi- |l 
ment and observation, they are invariably discovered to 
be wrong. In mechanics it is found, universally, that 
every step taken by the mind in advance, on untrodden 
ground, however certain the processes of reasoning may 
seem to be, is always taken, in some degree at least, in a 
wrong direction, and needs to be corrected : and that the 
mistake can be corrected in only one wa}^, namely, by ex- 
periment and observation. Thus mechanical science di- 
rects thought into the paths of true philosophy. This 
philosophy, it will be attempted briefly to outhne, so far 
as is required for the purposes of our argument. 

The first step must be to rid the mind of that creation 
of oar imagination, the reason. Xo progress can be made 
until this has been done. A glamour surround this 
" shape that shape has none," that seems to render cor- 



53 

rect reasoniDg extremely difficult. When, however, we 
are able to see clearly that the only reality that can be 
expressed by this term is the mental process, by which the 
spirit of man, in its unity, discusses the appearances 
which are given in consciouuess, then the first position 
has been gained. It is important that we should see that 
''the reason '' is, itself, one of those unwarranted concep- 
tions that the spirit, in its form -constructing activity, is 
continually creating. When we are fairly rid of this con- 
ception, and are able instead of it to consider the act of 
reasoning, then it becomes evident that the subject matter 
of reasoning must first be given in consciousness, and the 
distinction between reasoning and observing becomes an 
obvious one. 

The act of observing, including the verification of the 
reality and the truth of the image formed in conscious- 
ness, is an exceedingly complex act. It calls into exercise 
every form of our spiritual activity, and it manifests all 
the qualities that, in their aggregate, constitute character. 
It is not proposed to attempt an analysis of this act, but 
only to point out that the appeal for the exposure of the 
falsity, or the verification of the truth, of the mental con- 
ception, must always be made to a criterion existing 
wholly outside of the mind itself. 

The science that deals at once with spiritual and with 
concrete realities, affords here the very help we need. It 
does this in two ways, first, by maintaining the import- 
ant distinction between the acts of observing and of reas- 
oning, and, second, by exhibiting the tendency of the mind 
to form erroneous conceptions, and its complete inability 
of itself to correct or even to detect its errors. 

It is interesting to consider the light that is thrown by 
mathematics upon this distinction between observing and 
reasoning. The processess of mathematical reasoning are 
certain. They are of a nature that excludes doubt. But 
in the physical applications of mathematics, that is, in the 
application of mathematical reasoning to any purpose 
whatever, the correctness of the result depends entirely 
upon the correctness and the sufficiency of the data, and 
these data mathematics does not provide, nor does it 
primarily contribute in the least degree to their provision. 



The fault is not an uncommon one among mathemati- 
cians of neglecting proper verification of their data, or proper 
assurance that all essential data have been given them. 
The mathematical mind, just in the degree that it is ex- 
clusively mathematical, seems inclined to be wrapped up 
in its processes, and to be satisfied with their certainty, so 
as to be incapable of appreciating the anxious observation 
that must be exercised in ascertaining the data on which 
its calculations are to be based. In this respect, a simi- 
larity appears between mathematicians and rationalists, 
that is 23recisely what one would expect. 

I once witnessed an incident that illustrated the uncer- 
tainty which attends all physical applications of mathe- 
matics, in cases where the necessary data have not been 
well established. At a meeting of the American Associa- 
tion for the Advancement of Science, that was held in the 
city of Albany some twenty- five years ago, in the Physical 
Section, which was presided over by Professor Henry, a 
paper on a subject in mixed mathematics was presented . 
by Professor Pierce, of Harvard. When the reading of 
the paper had been concluded, Professor Alexander, of 
Princeton, arose and requested that the discussion of it 
might be postponed till the next day, as he expected then 
to present a paper on the same subject, in which, by a 
different course of reasoning, he had arrived at precisely 
the opposite conclusion. Some different elements had en- 
tered into the problem, as it had been attacked by each of 
these eminent mathematicians. 

The discovery of the planet Neptune is often cited as a 
prominent and striking instance of the discovery of a fact 
by the mere exercise of the i^easoning powers, through a 
purely mathematical process. This discovery is referred 
to here on account of the important aid that it renders to 
our argument. No event has ever been more misappre- 
hended, for there is none that places the distinction be- 
tween observation and reasoning in a stronger light, or that 
exhibits in a more remarkable manner the dependence of 
reasoning upon previous observation for the correctness of 
its results. 

The power of the analysis that could locate the unseen 
planet, and the strength with which this mighty weapon 



55 

was wielded by the young English and French mathema- 
ticians, whose names are forever associated with this dis- 
covery, command the admiration of men. The basis on 
which this analysis proceeded was, the accumulating ir- 
regularities in the orbit of the planet Uranus. This orbit 
had been computed, as it would be determined by the in- 
fluence of all known attractions ; but, to the surprise of 
astronomers, Uranus did not move in this orbit. The de- 
gree of its departure from it was ascertained by observa- 
tion, and this obviously could not be learned in any other 
way. If these observations had not been exact, or if they 
had been insufficient, in either case the mathematicians 
would have been misled, the result reached by the mathe- 
matical process would have been wrong, the planet would 
have been looked for in the wrong place, and would not 
have been found. 

But it is reserved to mechanical science to afford the 
most convincing demonstration both of the dependence of 
reasoning upon data otherwise ascertained, and of the 
tendency to error in all mental processes, which tendency 
can be shown and corrected only by observation and ex- 
periment. 

We may first refer to the application of mathematical 
reasoning to mechanics. Engineers know very well that 
it will not do, in practice, to conform to any deductions of 
mathematics, unless these deductions have been founded 
on exhaustive experiments. All such deductions made in 
disregard of this requirement, and it may be added that 
the name of these is legion, are presumably worthless. 
Some factor is certain to be omitted; some requirement, 
often of great consequence, is sure to be under-estimated, 
or even to be entirely overlooked. The result of every 
experiment is always in some respect a surprise. Some- 
thing is revealed that was not anticipated. The great 
structure of mechanical science has been reared by mathe- 
matical investigation, upon the foundation of experiment; 
and, to change the figure, experiment has been the plumb 
and the level and the square, the application of which to 
this structure has been necessary at every point in its 
rise. 

The unvarying fact that appears in mechanics is one 



56 

that requires to be stated again with emphasis. Every 
step that is taken in advance upon untrodden ground is 
sure to be taken in some degree in a wrong direction ; and 
the mind possesses within itself no power to correct the 
error, nor even to determine whether or not the step is an 
error. 

Notions of a novel character, which, from all the 
thought that can be given to them, even by experienced 
persons, seem most certain to be correct, turn out in the 
large majority of cases to be delusions. The experience of 
inventors in every branch of mechanics, as well as that of 
explorers in those branches of physics that are not strictly 
mechanical, will confirm this statement. The most com- 
prehensive knowledge fails when it finds itself confronted 
by a single unfamiliar feature. The tyro is always confi- 
dent, but the utmost that the man of experience will per- 
mit himself to affirm respecting a new device or new 
operation, even in those rare cases in which he can detect 
nothing which is at variance with truth already estab- 
lished, is that it seems to be worth trying. 

One of the greatest of living inventors once said to me : 
'^ There can't be any more mistakes, I have made them 
all." Professor Tyndall relates that, in entering upon his 
investigations respecting the power of the atmosphere to 
arrest radiant heat, he assumed that the aqueous vapor 
contained in the ataiosphere, being so minute a quantity, 
rarely exceeding one two-hundredth part of the volume of 
the air, might be disregarded. He was perplexed by the 
varying character of the results obtaiaed, until he began to 
suspect that the varying degrees of humidity of the at- 
mosphere might have something to do with these results. 
The final outcome of his exhaustive researches, as is well 
known, was the discovery of the important fact, that dry 
air has no power at all to arrest radiant heat, and that the 
aqueous vapor contained in the atmosphere, which for a 
long time he could not see that he should pay any attention 
to, affords the only protection to the earth, to prevent the 
immediate loss, by radiation into space, of the heat re- 
ceived by it from the sun. 

Such candor as is exhibited in these confessions marks the 
true seer into nature. Through such minds only can phy- 



57 

sical truth be revealed to men. And it is only by effort on 
the part of such men, sincere, patient and persevering in 
a degree beyond ordinary comprehension, that the clouds 
and darkness v^hich are round about every form of physi- 
cal truth can be penetrated. 
Poets are not by any means authorities, but in the line 

" What can we reason but from what we know ?" 

the poet came very near to expressing the truth. The im- 
portant addition, "or what we suppose that we know," 
would most likely have spoiled the versification, but would 
have made the question complete. 

Thus mechanical science exposes the true reality of 
what is so proudl}^ termed ''the unaided human reason." 
And it does this in a manner that enables the baseless 
character of its pretentions to be seen and understood b}^ 
all men. 

It is certain that in mechanics, all attempts to ascertain 
truth by mere reasoning infallibly lead men asiray. Active 
minds create legions of phantoms, all of which need, not to 
be discussed and argued about, but to be mercilessly ex- 
posed and destroyed. In mechanics we see clearly enough, 
that the employment of "the unaided human reason" is 
merely reasoning, or pretending to do so, without any 
properly established data, which here at least would obvi- 
ously be the work of fools. 

In mechanics we are confronted by two facts, which are 
as familiar as any facts of human experience can be. The 
first of these is, that, in the search after physical truth, 
the mind is, to the last degree, fallible, and liable to error. 
Where, out of all possible images that we can form in 
consciousness, there can be only one that corresponds with 
the reality, we are equally liable, instead of this, to form 
any one of the endless number of images that would rep- 
resent nothing, and to accept this phantom of our brain as 
true. We have within ourselves no power to distinguish 
the true from the false. In advancing even one step be- 
yond what is already established and familiar, we find our- 
selves in absolute need of a guide, who shall arrest our 
tendency to error, and shall set our feet in the right path 
on solid ground. 



58 

The second fact is that this infallible guide has appeared, 
surrounding man on every side, precisely adapted to this 
service, demanding his recognition, and his absolute sub- 
mission to its control and guidance ; and that it is by the 
aid of this guide that all progress in physical knowledge 
has been made. 

It is the familiar teaching of mechanical science, re- 
specting the means by which w^e have arrived at our pres- 
ent knowledge of physical truth, and by which all further 
knowledge of this nature is to be got, that this know^ledge 
is imparted to us, and verified to us, vrhollyfrom without, 
beyond and above ourselves. 

Now, this is a fact of supreme consequence, not only in 
itself, but still more on account of the deductions which 
appear naturally, and indeed necessarily, to be drawn from 
it. For there seems to be no way of escape from the conclu- 
sion, that this truth, which is so certain with respect to the 
facts of mechanical science, and, it should be added, of all 
science as well, must in reality be a universal truth, of 
which these practical illustrations or applications are, to 
our present sight, merely the most obvious and unmistak- 
able expressions. 

The following propositions seem to be self-evident: 

Fii'st. If the unaided human mind cannot be relied 
upon for the ascertainment of any physical truth, this is a 
direct intimation that we are not to rely upon it for the 
ascertainment of any other form of truth. If, as is obvi- 
ously the case, our mental powers are not given to us to be 
employed as the means for arriving, by any mere un- 
guided exercise of them, at the knowledge of physical 
truth, we have no right to rely upon their unaided power 
or activity as the means of arriving at higher forms of 
truth. If at every step to physical knowledge we need 
an infallible guide, it is a reasonable presumption that we 
require such a guide everywhere. 

Second. If such a guide is found to have been provided 
here, it would be unreasonable to suppose that mankind 
have been left helpless in any other respect. On the con- 



59 

trary, the presumption is exceedingly strong, that if, in his 
search after physical truth, man finds at his hand the very 
aid he needs, without which he must have remained in 
helpless ignorance, in a state in which every creation of 
his imagination would appear to him as a reality, but by 
the employment of which he may hope to reach the 
heights of physical knowledge, so he must be able, if he 
will, to find aid equally available and equally efficient, as 
well as equally indispensable, in his search after spiritual 
truth. 

And finally. If this guide to physical truth can be of 
no service to man, except as he seeks for it, voluntarily 
employs it, recognizes its infallible nature, holds his con- 
structive and his reasoning powers entirely subordinate to 
it, yea, humbles and prostrates himself before it, it is a 
reasonable conclusion that he must deal in precisely the 
same manner with the guide that shall lead him to the 
knovv^ledge of any truth whatever. 

Such a unity pervades all truth, physical and spiritual, 
and this unity is so obvious to us, that the force of this 
argument from analogy cannot be either disregarded or 
resisted. The criterion of all truth, spiritual as well as 
physical, to which the appeal must always be made, is to 
be found only at its source, and the universal guide to 
it is 



60 



REVELATION 



In the preceding paper I have endeavored to point out 
the analogies that are afforded by mechanical science, and 
which seem to lead to the conclusion that all truth must 
be communicated to the human mind from without, that 
is, by revelation. In this and subsequent papers I shall 
present some considerations which tend directly to con- 
firm this conclusion. 

If it be the fact that we cannot arrive at the knowledge 
of any truth, except as this knowledge is imparted to us 
from a source external to our own minds, then, clearly, it 
is of the first importance that this fact should be univer- 
sally recognized. However inclined the reader may now 
be to question this proposition, in the general form in 
which it is stated, I hope, if he will accompany me in my 
attempt to present the reasons on which the proposition is 
rested, he will in the end be prepared to give his assent to 
it, to yield to the evidences of its truth. 

Our minds must first be disabused of an unfavorable 
prepossession. The term ''revelation " has been used in a 
restricted sense. It has been customary to employ this 
term only to express the verbal mode in which the highest 
of all forms of truth has been communicated to man; and 
which particular form of truth it is obvious could not have 
been imparted to him in any other way. 

It is claimed that this limitation is unwarranted, and 
also that it is unfortunate, in that it has served to hide the 
essential unity of all truth, by assuming a radical distinc- 
tion between the modes in which the knowledge of its 
different forms or manifestations is conveyed to us; a dis- 
tinction that in reality has no existence. All forms of 
truth proceed from one source, and are intimately related 
to each other, and are associated with each other in their 
relations to man. The essential unity between physical and 
spiritual truth will form the subject of a separate paper. 



61 

At present we will only observe, that this unity enables 
the latter class of truths to be presented under the forms 
of the former class; that both alike involve deep mys- 
teries; that truths of either class are capable of being ap- 
prehended only by the humble and teachable spirit which 
has been prepared for their reception; and that, within 
the limited extent to which the knowledge of either phy- 
sical or spiritual truths is possible for us, there are de- 
grees in the apprehension of either, which are proportion- 
ate to the fitness of the mind to receive the truth, and to 
the earnestness of the search for it. These close analogies 
or likenesses point clearly to a common source, from 
which the knowledge of both these forms of truth is im- 
parted to us. If this indication be correct, then the term 
'^revelation " ought to be employed in a general, or rather 
in a universal, sense. 

In point of fact, all truths are equally revealed to men, 
only the mode of revelation differs, as the nature of each 
truth requires. We shall find that different classes of 
truths are revealed to us in different ways, as is made 
necessary by their varied nature. Each one of the several 
modes of revelation will be seen to be the only way in 
which, as we are constituted, the particular class of truths 
which is revealed to us in that way could be made known 
to us. 

Attention is first invited to some general considerations 
which serve to indicate very clearly that all truths must be 
imparted to the human mind from a source external to 
itself. 

With respect to mechanical science, the truth of this 
proposition has been abundantly shown. But a general 
survey of the history of human thought will prepare the 
mind to receive evidence of its universal character. It 
will be observed that, just as the unguided imagination 
becomes filled with false mechanical conceptions, in pre- 
cisely the same manner out of the unguided activity of 
the mind there have proceeded all false religions, all false 
morality, and all false philosophy, of whatever form. 
From within the human spirit all perversions of both phy- 
sical and spiritual truth have sprung. In every field of 
thought alike, men have constructed in consciousness 



62 

images which represented no reahties, and have treated 
these vain fancies as if they were trne. 

Thus all experience appears to confirm the deductions of 
analogy. The liability to error, the need of a guide, which 
is so manifest in exploring the regions of physical truth 
seems to be equally apparent in every other field of 
thought. In all alike, whenever the mind acts independ- 
ently of direction from the source of truth, it seems 
equally liable to fall into error. It would appear as if this 
tendency to error was not by any means confined to me- 
chanical truth, but was rather a universal one, and that 
its invariable presence in the former relation, that experi- 
ence renders so obvious, merely serves to open our eyes to 
its universal existence. Indeed, in the light that is shed 
on this subject from all these sources, we seem warranted 
in the a priori conclusion, that whatever has its origin in 
the human mind, and receives its development from the 
unguided operation of that mind alone, must of necessity 
be false. It would seem that all truth must come to us 
from the infinite ; that an intelligence that is less than 
infinite can come to the knowledge of any truth only as it 
is taught. 

If this be the case, then we are shut up to revelation. 
It mi ist be by revelation alone that we can receive any cer- 
tain knowledge. The source and the test of all truth must 
be whoUy from above ourselves. We must submit to re- 
ceive everything from the almighty hand. 

I have used the expression " shut up to revelation." 
This is liable to convey a false impression. In reality, our 
minds must be opened to revelation. We cannot conceive 
of its abundance or of its variety. Spiritual as well as 
physical revelation fills the earth and the heavens. It is 
infinite. The fullness of our own being is limited only by 
the wideness with which that being is voluntarily opened 
to receive the universal revelation of all truth. 

The question now presents itself : In what manner is 
this revelation made to us ? The answer to this question 
is given in the nature of things. To our spiritual being as] 
a unit, all appearing in the same consciousness, and in a 
degree that is limited only by our capacity to receive each 
one, every revelation of physical and of spiritual truth is 



made through appropriate senses, with all which we have 
been endowed for the obvious purpose of receiving these 
revelations. This truth wiU, I think, be rendered obvious, 
if, commencing at the lowest form of revelation, we shall 
examine its various modes somewhat in detail. Such an 
examination will be attempted in succeeding papers. 






64 



THE REVELATION OF OBJECTS OF 

SENSE. 



We begin our review with the external or sensible crea- 
tion. This is certainly revealed to us. We cannot form 
in our minds a correct preconception of anything. If in 
any case we permit ourselves to form a preconception, this 
vanishes in the presence of the reality. The single obvious 
duty of every original inquirer is, to form a correct image 
in the mind by observation of the reality, and in no other 
way. We are endowed with a variety of physical senses, 
which are adapted for the observation of every quality of 
external objects, and which will convey to the mind true, 
and so far as they go complete, ideas of them. We thus 
obtain all the knowledge that we need to have, and all 
that we were evidently intended to have, concerning these 
objects. 

We should observe here the variety of our senses. One 
sense alone may be deceived, indeed it often is so. But 
others are always at hand to detect the imposition. I once 
visited Eton Hall, the seat of the Marquis of Westminster. 
On being admitted to the grand entrance hall, the appear- 
ance of magnificence was very impressive. But I rapped 
on one of the supposed marble columns, and it was wood. 
The artist had done his iaiitative work wonderfully well, 
but it could not deceive the senses of touch or of hearing. 

Universally, we find ourselves provided, in our various 
senses, with the means for verifying the reality of the 
objects themselves, as distinguished from the images of 
them that are formed in our minds, and also for verifying 
the correctness of these images, as the counterparts of the 
objects, which are presented through our senses for our 
mental apprehension. The completeness of the adapta- 
tion of our senses to both these functions, and the manner 
in which one sense supplements another, and all combine 
to give to the mind full assurance on both these points, 
are calculated to fill us with admiration and wonder. 



65 

Thus we find the beginning of human knowledge to be 
received into the mind by re v^elation, which is made in the 
mode and through the senses that are appropriate to the 
character of this knowledge. We need not here enter 
further into the philosophy of perception. It is necessary 
only to emphasize the fact that the single obvious duty of 
man in this relation is to observe. This, clearly, is the 
only function of the mind that it is now called upon to 
exercise. The objects of sense are not created by the 
mind. Their nature and condition are not in any way 
affected by its action. They are merely shown to it, and 
perceived by it. Man becomes a conscious, voluntary and 
active agent in receiving knowledge of this nature merely 
by observing. 

But a mind is conceivable that refuses to receive know- 
ledge in this way — that declines to submit to any such 
test of the correctness of its preconceptions — that insists 
that all these appearances are contrary to reason. In- 
stances of. such refusal are common enough where the 
facts have been observed by others. An example of this 
was furnished a few years ago by some German geog- 
raphers, who had constructed a map of the interior of 
Africa as they concluded it necessarily must be, and who 
declared the reports of certain discoveries, when those 
were first announced, to be untrue, because the lakes and 
riveis discovered had not been so laid down on their map. 

But we are supposing the case of a man who rejects, as 
unreasonable, facts that are being continually verified by 
the general observation of mankind. Common sense, 
however, recognizes the conclusiveness of the tests em- 
ployed, and the fitness of the physical senses for this work 
of observation and verification. 

The argument that I wish to urge is made very strong 
by the fact that there is no such person. No sane man 
ever thought of anything so obviously absurd, as in this 
field to set the conclusions of any process of reasoning 
before the facts that are established by observation. 

But such a misdirection of our mental activities would 
be no more ridiculous than are those misapplications of 
them that we are accustomed to see in the opposite direc- 
tion. We behold continual attempts made to establish 



imagined spiritual realities or truths by processes of rea- 
soning, when it is evident that reasoning is not the mode 
of spiritual revelation any more than it is the mode of 
physical revelation. 

The present consideration of the subject of perception 
will be concluded with two observations: 

First. Perception through our senses is obviously the 
only way in which external objects could be revealed to 
us. Language would convey no idea of them. Our senses 
are expressly adapted to receive or to form the images of 
these forms of truth, and to present these images and 
verify them in our consciousness. 

Second. We shall find this to be the universal law. 
Every fact and truth, physical and spiritual, from the 
lowest to the highest, is, in like manner, revealed to man, 
in the only possible way, through senses which are ex- 
pressly adapted to receive it, and to present it and verify 
it in consciousness. 

We come now to consider the revelation of the facts of 
natural science. Here an interesting distinction presents 
itself. The ordinary objects of sense, when these are first 
beheld by an}' individual who is capable of reflection, are 
viewed with the consciousness that, while new to him, 
they are familiar objects to others, and have been so to all 
generations of men. But in the case of a fact in science 
there is always a discoverer, to whom the fact is first dis- 
closed, and by whom it is viewed, as Galileo beheld the 
planet Yenus crescent like the moon, or the satelhtes 
revolving about Jupiter, or, as recently, the satellites of 
Mars were seen by Hall, with the consciousness that he is 
the first of mortals to behold it, and that through him the 
knowledge of it is to be conveyed to the minds of his 
race. 

In all cases, however, there is the certainty that the 
fact itself is not new. There is an intelligence to whom it 
has always been familiar, while it is not unreasonable to 
suppose that there may also be an infinity of inferior in- 
telligences, by whom it was known before. In most cases, 



67 

as in that of the pressure of the atmosphere, we find that 
the fact, while it was yet all unknown to man, had its 
myriad uses. When once the fact has been disclosed to 
us, these uses are found to come within our comprehen- 
sion, and to be in immediate connection with our own 
daily life, just as multitudes of facts are, of the nature of 
which we still remain in ignorance. We then discover 
that all nature had been adapted to this fact, that in the 
infinite complications as it appears to us, but what in 
reality is the harmonious interrelation of all created 
things, this fact was essential to the performance of in- 
numerable functions by other agencies ; that in the begin- 
ning it had formed a necessary feature in the plan of the 
creation. 

With respect to discoveries in natural science this fact 
appears. These discoveries are all made by the activity of 
the mind in observing — the same mode in which the mind 
exercises itself in forming images of any objects in nature. 
The difference lies wholly in the closeness of the observa- 
tion, in the degree of attention that is given, and in the 
discrimination that is made. Between thes different de- 
grees of spiritual application no line of separation can be 
drawn. We pass by insensible steps from one extreme of 
care and power in observation to the other. 

From the first discovery of its own hands by a little 
child up through familiarity with all thin2:s as they are 
presented to us, still up, till we reach what are known as 
elemental forms of matter, Avhere now our progress in this 
direction is arrested, still up, until we see the trained and 
penetrating intelligence able, through the revelations of 
the spectroscope, to affirm the constitution of suns and of 
nebulae, and still up, through all physical discoveries that 
ever shall be, we see all to be made by directing the spirit- 
ual being into the same form of activity, with reference 
to different objects, by the aid of different helps, and with 
different degrees of concentration. 

In all these cases alike, we deal with those manifesta- 
tions of force which are familiary known as matter, and 
for the apprehension of which by us they and our senses 
are mutually adapted. And in all alike, the mind, in 
order to be fit for the reception of the true image, must be 



68 

absolutely free from preconceptions, so as to be able, with 
just discrimination, to estimate all appearances at their 
true value. 

Moreover, every mind must be at liberty to point out 
the oversights or the misconceptions of any other mind, so 
that, through many independent observers, every form of 
personal error may be detected and corrected. In this 
way the true idea, corresponding to the reahty, is finally 
determined. 

It will be observed that discoveries in science are made 
by the faithful employment of all the powers and means 
of observation that are either directly given to man, 
or that he is endowed with the ability to produce. This is 
the way in which all the facts in physical science are re- 
vealed to him, and, as was observed with respect to the 
ordinary objects of perception, it is obviously, as we are 
constituted, the only way in which these, facts could be 
revealed. From the complete adaptation of our physical sen- 
ses to this work of perception and verification we have the 
same right to conclude that they were expressly designed 
by their Maker for this obvious and necessary use, that 
we have to conclude that the instruments that we employ 
to aid us in these researches were expressly designed for 
this purpose by their makers. 

It IS a fact well worthy of observation, that it has never 
occurred to any one to say : If we possessed an additional 
sense, we would then be able to apply an additional test of 
the reality of external objects, or of the correctness of the 
images of these objects that we form in our mindsi^ This 
has never occurred to any one, and it never can occur to 
any one, because we do not feel any such want. We per- 
ceive our equipment for both these purposes to be complete. 
We cannot conceive of any use for another sense, nor of 
another sense to be used. We cannot imagine a test, to 
these ends, additional to those which we are now able to 
apply. On both these points the employment of the 
senses that we have brings entire conviction and satisfac- 
tion to our minds. 

We note here already the appearance of the universal 
law of hungering and thirsting. The pearls of science are 
not cast before swine. Physical truth can be imparted 



L 



69 

only to those minds which have been prepared to receive 
it, which are devoted to the search after it, and which 
prize it above rabies. Minds that are in any degree in- 
different to it must, just in that degree, remain dead to its 
existence. And, on the other hand, the completeness of 
the preparation, and the earnestness of the search, measure 
the degree in which this form of truth, like every other, 
is, or properly speaking can be, imparted to man. 

In concluding these remarks upon the revelation of the 
physical creation, I desire to call special attention to the 
fact, that this revelation is always inclusive of the verifica- 
tion both of the reality of objects, and of the truth of the 
images of them that we see in consciousness. No question 
can arise here about the critei'ion of truth. The evidence 
is conclusive to the mind that is prepared to receive the 
truth at all. The inquiier has been to the highest source 
of knowledge that he can conceive of, in fact, he has been 
to a higher source than he can conceive, and he is satisfied. 
This we shall find to be the case universally. Every form 
of revelation is of such a nature as to be conclusive of its 
own truth, to minds which are prepared for its reception. 



70 



COOPERATION. 



A difficulty has doubtless already occurred to the reader, 
in the wa}" of admitting the truth that we receive all our 
knowledge by revelation. This apparent difficulty lies in 
the fact, that knowledge is so obviously acquired by our 
own exertion. In the mere work of perception, already 
first considered, we are required to emplo}^ our senses, and 
to bring our spiritual being into a state of activity ; and in 
the higher departments of knowledge the mental effort by 
which this knowledge is acquired is still more serious, 
being in most cases the utmost of which we are capable. 
How", then, can knowledge be said to be revealed to us ? 
Before proceeding further, it is necessary that this question 
should be answered. 

The same difficulty comes in the way of our under- 
standing the truth, that all our possessions are given to us, 
when, apparently, we get them ourselves. These pos- 
sessions are the direct fruit of our ow^n exertions, unless 
we have obtained those w^hich are the fruit of the exer- 
tions of somebody else. In the same manner, all achieve- 
ment is the result of properly directed and adequate effort, 
and it is not to be reached or accomplished in any other 
way than by such effort. 

The truth about all this matter w^as fitly illustrated by 
the Christ, in the declaration that our Heavenly Father 
feeds the fowls of the air, when we have the apparent 
evidence of our senses that they feed themselves. When, 
however, we consider the matter, we observe that the 
series of acts that are necessary to sustain the existence of 
the fowls of the air is long and interrelated far beyond our 
power to trace. Of all these acts, the conscious and volun- 
tary performanct! of only one is committed to the fowls 
themselves. They have only to select and take the food 
and drink that the}' find provided for them, and adapted 
to their sustenance. We observe further, that this single 
intermediate act is the only act that the fowls have the 
ability to perform. The power is given to them to do 



71 

that which is required of them, and which is committed 
to them to be done, and no more. 

This is precisely the case with man. All difficulty dis- 
appears from this subject, when we consider, how many 
things are necessary to be done, in order that any revela- 
tion shall be received, or any result be accomplished, by 
man ; and, out of this inconceivable number and variety 
of acts, how few have been committed to man himself. 
Almost everything is done for him. It is especially note- 
worthy that, as in the case of the fowls, so also in that of 
man, the little that is left for him to do is all that he can 
do. In its nature and its extent it is precisely adapted to 
his powers. It fully employs them. He is called upon to 
exert himself to the full extent of his ability. There is 
nothing, above that which man enjoys in common with 
inanimate nature, that he can receive without his own 
voluntary cooperative effort. From the supply of his 
lowest bodily wants, up to the satisfying of the highest 
longings of his spiritual being, his own active cooperation 
is the condition essential to every gift. We are able to 
perceive that this must be the case, in the very nature of 
things. The desire and the receptive power or condition 
must exist on the part of man. There obviously cannot 
be such a thing as the passive reception by man of any 
good, above that which, as already stated, he shares in 
common with inanimate nature. 

We shall, in a later paper, have occasion to observe the 
fact that all the apparently independent agencies in nature 
are working together in harmony, cooperating with each 
other in ceaseless activity and to the full extent of their 
efficiency, for a single purpose, and that this purpose is 
the well-being and the happiness of man. We have now 
presented to us the further fact, that man, on his part, 
must join in this harmonious activity ; that in order to 
become the recipient of any good whatever, from the low- 
est up to the highest conceivable, he must perform his 
appointed part. All agencies of which we have any 
knowledge are working for him, and we may natiii-ally 
suppose that this beneficent activity extends also to 
agencies which it is beyond our power to discern ; but all 



must be to no purpose without the voluntary cooperation 
of man himself. 

This law of cooperation is a most important one. A 
clear apprehension of its univei-sal and necessary nature 
will aid us to the undei-standiug of much that, for the 
want of such apprehension is often obscured. I shall, in 
this place, limit myself to a single illustration of this law, 
drawn from the primary labor of man. While thus ob- 
served only in its tirst and most simple apphcation, its 
universal natui*e will be obvious. Then, when we resume 
the line of thought, now interrupted, we shall see the fact 
continually exhibited, that man's voluntary cooperative 
activity is the essential condition of the communication to 
him, or reception by him, of any gift, or any revelation, 
and may properly be considered as the mod»^ in which 
these are imparted to him. 

It is assumed as obvious that thei*e must be an infinite 
giver, from whom we receive everything, including our 
existence. Be^'ond this gift of existence, theie are only 
four things that we receive without our own co«3peration, 
which, in a sense more or less absolute, may be termed 
voluntary. These are light, warmth, air and water. 

Light fills the universe, and enters our open organs of 
sight. We may say that no act on our part, either volun- 
tary or involuntary, is required in order that light shall 
enter these organs, and there form the images of external 
objects. Indeed, we must close our eyes in order to keep 
the light and the images out. So also from the same 
source, the sun, we receive warmth without any act on 
our part. 

After these first gifts of light and warmth, it is interest- 
ing to observe the gradual manner in which our acts, upon 
which the reception of all other gifts depends, asbume a 
voluntary character. At fii^t the act is compelled by a 
sensation of want. It becomes truly voluntary only when 
choice has become free. 

With res])ect to air. we have om' being at the bottom of 
^»t^ atmospheric ocean, in which both the earth and all 
things and beings upon it are immersed, and out of which 
no animal or vegetable could exist. To receive this into our 
bodies, there to perform its amazing functions, we have 



Y3 

only to breathe. The act of breathing can'hardly be called 
voluntary in any sense. The necessity is urgent, the 
supply is instant, and the act is performed with equal 
regularity in our conscious and our unconscious states. 

Water, the next universal necessity, universally pro- 
vided, we must drink. This is only a semi-voluntary act. 
It is performed under the pressure of an impulse, which, 
if not sooner ^aelded to, grows to be irresistible. 

It is to be observed that we share these four gifts with 
all organic being, vegetable as well as animal. The exist- 
ence of all alike is dependent upon them ; and in each 
one, and in the relations that each one sustains to all being, 
there are involved infinite wonders, to which the mind 
that is in the least degree thoughtful cannot, even by 
constant familiarity, be rendered insensible. 

But we now pass beyond these. The vegetable creation 
has only to expose itself to the warmth and the light of 
the sun, to breathe and to drink. Animals must also eat. 
But for every creature except man its food also is pro- 
vided, to be eaten in the state in which it finds it. Man 
only feels the need, and possesses the intelligence to till 
the ground and to make a fire. There are acts, additional 
to the single one required of the animal, for which man's 
intelligence was obviously given to him, and which he is 
left to perform. In the nature of things, a command is 
laid upon him to perform these acts, and this command he 
must obey. 

• Here, in the work of supplying his lowest physical 
wants, man's voluntary cooperative agency begins, never 
to cease. And even here we cannot fail to be struck with 
the relative insignificance of the part that is committed to 
man, essential though that part is. The earth to be tilled 
and the grain to be sown are provided for him. With 
these provisions he certainly had nothing to do. And now 
in faith and trust, not in the sunshine nor the rain, but, 
whether consciously or unconsciously it matters not, in 
reality, faith and trust in the unseen goodness behind the 
sunshine and the rain, and in the assurance of that power, 
whether heard or felt it matters not, that in the sweat of 
his face he shall eat his bread, he tills the ground and 
buries the seed out of his sight. In this simple act his ap- 



74 

pointed work is done. His part is performed. Now he 
has only to wait and wonder, while the sun shines and the 
rains descend, and the earth yields her increase. The seed 
springs and grows, he knows not how, and multiplies and 
ripens for the harvest. 

It will not be necessary to pursue this subject further as 
a separate topic. The analogy which the mind naturally 
draws from this single illustration renders it sufficiently 
obvious, that our cooperation must be a universal 
requirement. The correctness of this conclusion all 
observation of human affairs confirms. We are prepared 
to recognize all human activity as the different modes of 
man's cooperative work. We repeat that there cannot 
be such a thing as the passive reception by us of any good 
above that which we enjoy in common with all animate 
and inanimate nature. The receptive state of man is a 
state of activity. Accordingly, throughout the diverse 
modes of revelation, varying as these do with the varied 
nature of the truths revealed, we shall find running, pre- 
cisely as analogy would lead us to expect, the unity of 
man's co-operation. 



Y5 



THE REVELATION OF MECHANICAL 

TRUTH. 



The subject of revelation will now be resumed, by con- 
templating briefly the revelation of mechanical truth. 
I do not propose to view mechanical truth here in its 
largest aspect; but merely to present some considera- 
tions suggested by the practical applications of this form 
of truth that are made by man. 

We mark at this point the first important transition. 
In a preceding paper we had our attention occupied by the 
revelation of the forms of matter, or the sensible manifes- 
tations of force. Now, we are brought into immediate con- 
tact with the unseen. From what we term things, which, 
indeed, are only embodied thought, but which we are not 
often so regarded by us, because our attention is com- 
monly arrested on the object, we pass to the direct con- 
templation of thought itself, and of those embodiments of 
it that have been committed to us. 

In mechanical science, we find ourselves to have been 
placed between two creations, the seen and the un- 
seen, as the agents for the embodiment of thought. Beyond 
that provision for our existence that we share with all the 
animal creation, we discover a boundless preparation to 
have been made for our welfare and happiness, the em- 
ployment or the utilization of which has been committed 
to our own hands. The transition that we make here is 
not in reality so great as at first it seems to be. It is only 
from those thoughts which have completely embodied for 
us to those which, in a great multitude of their applica- 
tions, have been left to be embodied by us. 

For the purpose of this embodiment, these thoughts 
must be communicated to us. The common idea is that 
mechanical discoveries and inventions are made by men, 
and there we are accustomed to stop. But the properly 
developed mind cannot rest upon this idea. We have 
already dwelt upon the character of mind by which alone 
mechanical truth can be originally apprehended, and upon 



76 

the process through which such minds must pass, in order 
to arrive at the completed, or, as we say, the matured, 
thought of any invention or discovery. In a mind that is 
prepared to receive it a mechanical truth is disclosed 
gradually. Seen dimly at first, through close and often 
prot] acted application, and by submission to constant 
practical correction, the thought grows in distinctness, 
until at last it appears clear and self-luminous. And 
the proposition now is, that these truths, in all their 
completeness, are imparted to the mind by direct revela- 
tion, and that this laborious search is our necessary 
cooperative act, or is the mode in which these revelations 
are made to us. 

When we reflect on this subject, one confirmation of this 
truth presents itself after another. We cannot conceive of 
thought except as existing in a mind. Indeed, we know 
nothing of thought except as a function of mind. We 
note, concerning the thought of any mechanical construc- 
tion, as was observed concerning the facts of natural 
science, and the thoughts that ai^e embodied in them, 
that the thought itself is not new^. It is certain that there 
must be a supreme intelligence to whom it has always 
been known, a mind in which it has always existed, and 
as with physical truth, so here also, we may rationally 
suppose inferior intelligences to exist, in infinite number, 
by whom it was known before. In fact we cannot draw 
the line between physical and mechanical truths Th^se 
are intimately associated with each other. We pass from 
one to the other by insensible steps. We see physical 
truth everywhere underlying mechanical truth. More- 
over, we find throughout nature, especially in animal 
structures, embodiments of mechanical thought, which we 
recognize to be essentiall}'^ the same as our own. Physical 
and mechanical truths cannot be essentially distinguished 
from each other. Their common origin is apparent. 
Whether, therefore, mechanical thoughts are completed 
in their embodiment by the Creator, or are in any part 
committed for this purpose to man, the truth of their eter- 
nal existence in ^the Infinite Mind, in all their complete- 
ness, however great may be the mystery that it involves, 



77 

is one that we find ourselves compelled to assent to, as 
much as to the eternity of physical thought. 

Of the latter class of thoughts, Columbus was penetrated 
with one, namely, the thought that the earth is round. 
But clearly this thought had existed in the Infinite Mind 
since the earth assumed its form. Of the former class, let 
us consider some of the grander thoughts to which 
mechanical science has given embodiment, and which 
have thus become important agencies in the civilization of 
our race. These are thoughts of the varied applications of 
steam and electricity, which, in annihilating space and time 
in so large a degree, point unmistakably to a state of being 
in which our existence shall be wholly independent of 
these conditions. 

It is not possible that any of these thoughts can be new, 
in the absolute sense of that term ; for they constitute 
agencies of an essential character in the work of human 
development, and they must, therefore, have held a cor- 
responding place in the scheme of that development. 
Neither is it conceivable that those thoughts should have 
been originated by man independently without having 
been imparted to him directly from the divine intelli- 
gence. The mode in which these thoughts are reached by 
him forbids such a conception. 

The divine ordering of human affairs involves, of neces- 
sity, the communication of mechanical truths to man, as 
he becomes prepared for their reception. Rightly viewed, 
then, the idea of the direct revelation of these truths is 
seen to be not only the natural, but the necessary idea. 
No other case is conceivable, unless belief in the infinite 
mind be rejected altogether. 

But if the foreordering and the communication to man 
of the most general mechanical thoughts be admitted, 
then this admission must extend to the most minute as 
well. There is no place where a line of separation can be 
drawn. Every part of any mechanical structure, however 
inconsiderable it may be, has its own especial function, 
that must be performed, and which it only can perform. 
It constitutes an essential feature of the complete concep- 
tion. In the Eternal Mind thought is always complete. 
The minuteness of its detail is infinite. This is illustrated 



Y8 

everywhere in nature. So, when fully revealed to man, 
mechanical thought must be revealed in all its complete- 
ness. 

This subject may be considered also from another point 
of view, and such consideration, it seems to me, can hardly 
fail to fix more firmly in the mind the conviction of the 
direct revelation of mechanical truth. 

All forms of matter have evidently been prepared with 
reference to such revelation. Matter exists for the em- 
bodiment of thought. This is its great use. For many of 
its forms it is the only apparent use. The completeness 
of the adaptation of matter to this use is the subject of 
ever growini^ wonder. Matter has waited through incon- 
ceivable duration for these uses to appear. During this 
period it has passed through successive changes, and its 
various forms have entered into multiplied combinations, 
the uniform result of which has been to adapt it for varied 
uses, to which in many cases it was not adapted in its 
original condition. We naturally conclude, therefore, 
that adaptation to these uses was the purpose of these 
changes. 

The absolute dependence of man upon matter for the 
embodiment or realization of his mechanical conceptions, 
'and the complete fitness of matter for this purpose, consti- 
tute one of those amazing correspondencies with which 
nature is everywhere filled. The fundamental thought 
which, precedent to any activity, is always formed in the 
mind is a purpose, a thought of something to be done, of 
some end to be accomplished. The thoughts which suc- 
ceed to this primary thought or purpose relate entirely to 
matter. They group themselves under two heads. The 
first is, the selection of the material suitable for the pur- 
pose. The second is, the mode of the application of this 
material to the purpose. The relation between thought 
and matter is, therefore, obvious. Matter exists for the 
embodiment of thought. Each is necessary to the other. 
Each is complementary to the other. The two are coordi- 
nate parts of one whole. 

We cannot, then, stop short of the evident truth, that 
thought and matter are from the same source ; that, as 
man cannot create matter, so neither can he originate 



Y9 

thought ; that, as the forms of matter are shown to man 
through liis physical organs of perception, so also every 
true mechanical thought is revealed immediately to his 
mind ; and that, with reference to his work universally, 
he receives the command that Moses received, and which, 
from the very constitution of his being he must obey, ** See 
that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed 
to thee in the mount." 

We must not overlook the three-fold unity, which is ap- 
parent through their mutual adaptations, of thought, mat- 
ter, and man. In the great scheme, the part assigned to 
man is the material embodiment of thought. The purpose 
that man conceives to-day is new to him, but it has ex- 
isted, and matter has been prepared for its realization, 
from the beginning. It is now shown to him, aod so he 
shares the thought, and becomes, through his free but har- 
monious activity, the agent to execute the will, and ac- 
complish the purpose, of the infinite mind. 

The impressive truth now appears, that these purposes 
are all purposes of good to man himself. There can be no 
escape from this obvious fact. Man is employed as the 
active agent in promoting his own happiness, in effecting 
his own civilization. This is the beneficent end, to the ac- 
complishment of which matter, in its innumerable forms, 
is adapted, and for which all thoughts which relate to mat- 
ter and its uses, and to which our view is at present 
limited, have been, and are continually being, imparted to 
man. 

We see clearly enough that mechanical thoughts and 
uses for matter are fundamental requisites to the civiliza- 
tion of our race. Civifization appears only as these 
thouglits are disclosed to man. To the Indian, few and 
simple were the thoughts revealed, and so for him the 
forests decayed unused, and the marble and the ore lay 
unsunned. The revelation of mechanical thought has been 
made to man very gradually, one thought at a time, and 
in the order in which he has become prepared to receive it. 
Sometimes these revelations have been separated by long 
intervals, and at other times they have come crowded 
thick together. The;y have appeared in grander and 
grander procession since free thought began, in the pure 



80 

worship of Him "in whom are hid all the treasures of wis- 
dom and knowledge/'' 

The question presents itself respecting the multitude of 
erroneous mechanical ideas, mistaken notions, false con- 
ceptions, which first present themselves in the mind, 
whence do all these come i The only answer to this ques- 
tion is, that we do not know. We do know the fact, 
although we are ignorant why it is so, that everything 
requires its opposite. As there cannot be height without 
depth, or the right hand direction without the left, so there 
can be no truth without corresponding error. Moreover, 
while truth is single, error is legion. Here we encounter 
this law of opposites, and within ourselves we find not 
only an inability to chose correctly, to distinguish be- 
tween the true and the false, but, moreover, we find that 
almost always some form of error is the fii^t to appear, 
and we feel the inclination to accept and follow it as the 
truth. But we find also that from without, and involved 
in the very nature and method of the revelation, a test ap- 
pears, that we at once recognize to be infallible, by w^hich 
we shall know the true thought that is eternal, that alone 
inhabits the Infinite Mind, that forms a part of the uni- 
versal harmony, and shall be able to distinguish this from 
every form of error. Then we find that no place remains 
for the latter, but as the truth grows brighter in the mind 
error vanishes away. 

The mode in which mechanical truth is revealed to man 
suggests the reflection that inventions form no exception 
to the rule, that mankind must receive all their blessings 
through trial and suffering. Here, as everywhere else, 
this appears to be the appointed way. How wonderful is 
our mechanical inheritance I Few persons ever attempt, 
what is far beyond the power of any, to imagine its ex- 
tent. Every real invention has been produced for the 
benefit of the human race forever. Many of these, in- 
deed, pass into oblivion, but not until they have served as 
steps to something higher. What a history of endurance 
and weariness do inventions represent I the forgotten ones, 
the real germs, out of which the trees, perhaps long after, 
grew, often costing most of all. 

The remarks presented in this paper are intended to ap- 



81 

ply especially to mechanical inventions. Eespecting me- 
chanical laws, or the uniform mode in which forces act, 
or in which matter behaves under the action of force, as 
well as respecting the properties of matter which adapt it 
for mechanical uses, it does not seem necessary to make 
these the subject of separate discussion. The train of 
thought already followed applies to them directly. It is 
evident that if anything of a physical nature is communi- 
cated to man by revelation, these must be. 



82 



THE REVELATION OF ABSTRACT 

TRUTH. 



Leaving, now, this mixed subject of thought and matter 
in their relations to each other, we advance to the revela- 
tion of abstract tratli, of ideal quantities, magnitudes and 
numbers, and the relation of these to each other, which 
constitute the science of pure mathematics. 

One may say : "Surely these thoughts cannot be said 
to be revealed to us. for they are arrived at as the result 
of mental processes, that are performed within our con- 
sciousness, and tliey cannot be reached by us in any other 
way.'^ There are, however, two things that place this 
subject before us in a different light. The first is, that 
these thoughts did not originate in any finite intelligence, 
and do not depend for their existence on any finite appre- 
hension of them. They existed before they were con- 
ceived of by any man. and if there be an Infinite Mind, 
these must have existed eternally in that mind. The sec- 
ond thiug is. that these thoughts are realities, and this in 
a sense far higher than that in which any objects in nature 
can be said to be realities. They are wholly objective to 
us. They are merely shown to us. and are observed by 
us in consciousness : but they cannot be modified or af- 
fected in any way by the action of our minds in observing 
them. Abstract thoughts or truths become objects of 
our perception precisely as material forms do. The im- 
ages of them are held in our mental view, and are there 
contemplated by us, in the same manner in which the im- 
ages of sensible objects are. 

The revelation is, then, as certain and necessary in the 
one case as it is in the other. The difference between the 
two cases lies wholly in the mode of the revelation. This 
mode differs, as is made necessary, by the diffei'ent natures 
of the objects revealed ; but the result, in bringing the 
image of the object within our consciousness, is the same 
in each case. 



83 

Concerning the revelations of abstract thoughts, pre- 
cisely as concerning the revelation of objects of sense, we 
note ^hese things : 

First. The mode in which we receive this revelation is 
the only mode in which, as we are constituted, this reve- 
lation could be made to us. Our power of mental percep- 
tion must be developed by exei'cise. Out of the infinity 
of abstract truths which to superior intelligences must 
stand equally self-evident in their own light, probably as 
parts of one whole, only a limited number are reached by 
us. and by most persons only a very few, through slow 
and laborious processes. Then those that have been* so 
reached are seen by us also in the same clear light. This 
is obviously the necessary mode of the revelation of ab- 
stract truth to man, and the ^^ay in which man must co- 
operate in receiving this revelation. 

Second. This revelation of abstract truths, like the 
revelation of objects of sense, is inclusive, first, of the re- 
ality of the objects revealed, and, second, of the correct- 
ness of our images or conceptions of them. This form of 
verification we call demonstration. It is always satisfac- 
tory to our minds. We cannot conceive of any additional 
test, the application of which would render our conviction 
more certain on either of these points. We see these 
thoughts to be necessarily true. 

Third. We observe the complete adaptation of our 
minds for discerning this class of objects without the aid 
of the physical organs of perception. These objects are 
purely spiritual, and are beheld by out* spirits dii-ectly. 
In order that external or material objects shall be beheld 
by us, images of them must be formed in consciousness, 
through the medium of our senses. But we form images 
of these spiritual objects in conseiousness without such 
aids. 

Tlie following distinction appears to exist between ma- 
terial objects and these abstract objects. While in the case 
of material objects the essential nature of each one is 
shrouded in equal mystery, mystery appears to be pre- 
dicate of abstract objects only when these are regarded 
as parts of one whole. This whole is infinitely divisible. 
The various individual objects, or abstract truths, when 



84: 

regarded separately, are of widely different natures and 
are adapted to be apprehended by very different orders of 
human intelligence or development. To the intelligence 
perceiving it. each separate abstract truth is devoid of 
mystery. The mind that comprehends any such truth 
sees it in its universal and necessary character. Such a 
mind can observe the practical applications of this thought 
in the works of the Creator, and can itself intelligently 
make practical appKcations of it in its own work. 

We may observe here how close are our relations with 
the infinite, and also how confused are the common ideas 
of men respecting the real and the unreal. When we have 
taught a child to comprehend that one and one make 
two, which is the most simple abstract truth, we have 
shown to it a changeless reality, that had no beginning 
and can have no end, that is universal or omnipresent, and 
that transcends both space and time : a truth, moreover, 
that exists as a reality, quite independent of any material 
object to which it can be applied, or of any finite mind by 
which it can be comprehended. And yet we do not apply 
the term "rear* to this and similar objects, but we reserve 
this term for objects of sense, which change their forms, 
and as such objects perish in a moment. 

In our relations to what we caU material objects, and 
thus far also in our relations to objects of mental percep- 
tion, we observe a fact which, by necessary analogy, we 
conclude to be universal. This fact is, that we are capa- 
ble of perceiving these objects only in a small degree, de- 
pendent on our own powers. In the former case we are 
able, to a certain extent, to augment our perceptive powei*s 
artificially ; and in the latter case the powers are capable 
of different degrees of development in different indi- 
viduals. 

Thus, the limitation to the sights we can see, or the 
sounds we can hear, is found in the limited sensibility of 
our organs of sight and hearing. These organs are sensi- 
tive to the vibrations or pulsations of light and air only 
withiQ certain hmits. Matter may become completely in- 
visible to us ; a fact of which air. water and glass, as well 
as the disappearance of many substances in solution, 
afford familiar examples. Perhaps the limitation of our 



85 

senses is most impressively shown wlien we come to em- 
ploy the the higher powers of the microscope. Objects 
then appear mei-ely as they would do if they were, in one 
plane, just so much larger than they really are : and not 
the least progress is made towards a knowledge of the 
constitution of matter. For illustration, we may magnify 
a diatom, say. twenty-fire hundred diameters, which 
gives a superficial enlargement of more than six million 
times, and the illumination of the object and the defiriition 
of our instrument may be such, that the object is seen 
with brilliant distinctness ; but, when viewed by reflected 
light, the minute portion of the surface that is seen appears 
as substantial as the surface of a shell in our (!;abinet. We 
feel a seiisation of awe, as we realize that infinity is before 
us. that it is before us everywhere, and that all the opera- 
tions of nature are carried on in recesses, into which it is 
not possible that, while in the body, our senses shall ever 
penetrate. 

So. also, with respect to abstract thought, considered a^ 
a whole. Our perception of this varies in degree, accord- 
ing the development of our perceptive powers in this di- 
rection. I understand, we will suppose, a httle of geom- 
etry. I can see clearly enough that the three interior 
angles of any possible triangle are equal to two right 
angles. Many propositions equally simple are plain to me. 
I perceive their necessary character. If, however, on^ 
talks to me in the language of fluxions, he speaks in an 
unknown tongue. Xo corresponding images present 
themselves in my consciousness. But since the time of 
Xewton there have been discovered still higher methods 
of mathematical analysis, which the mighty mind that 
develo]^ed fluxions did not reach. It is well understood 
that there is in reality no limit to the science of mathe- 
matics : but that for us such a limit exists in the limited 
power of our minds. 

We conclude this paper with the following obsei-va- 
tions : 

First. Two modes of revelation have now been con- 
sidered, one through our physical senses, the other to the 
spirit directly, without the employment of any media for 
this purpose. These two modes of relevation are totally 



86 

distinct from each other. Each one is exactly adapted to 
the nature of the objects that are revealed through it. 
Both ahke result in producing in consciousness distinct im- 
ages of the objects, so far as the revelation of them is 
made to us. 

Second. Acquaintance, in any degree, with the first of 
these two classes of objects does not give the power to 
affirm anything whatever respecting objects of the second 
class. The attempt to do so would be regarded as an ab- 
surd presumption and impertinence. No one ever thought 
of such a thing as to assume that his skill in perceiving 
material things could give him a warrant for saying, or 
for believing, that any abstract or spiritual object had no 
existence because he could not see it. 

Third. The complete reality of all things, whatever be 
their nature, is something far beyond our power to com- 
prehend. In other words, whatever may be the mode in 
which these realities are revealed to us, such revelation is 
made only in a slight degree, a degree ample, indeed, for 
all our possible uses, and ample also for the employment 
of all our powers, but, in every case, bearing only a small 
relation to the unrevealed reality. 

Fourth. The perception or the realization of the partial 
nature of this revelation comes to the mind gradually, as 
it progresses in development. In every case this percep- 
tion is most clear to those whose acquaintance with the 
particular subject is most profound. 

None will question the correctness of these statements. 
Each one of them is sufficiently obvious. The second one 
especially may be regarded in the nature of an axiom. 
Their importance will appear as we advance in our argu- 
ment. We shall have occasion to observe their applica- 
tion to subjects of the highest nature ; applications which, 
when the universal character of these propositions comes 
to be apprehended, the mind naturally, and indeed neces- 
sarily, makes. 



87 



MATERIALISM. 



The subject of materialism lies here right in our way, 
and demands attention before we advance to consider the 
revelation of the spiritual realities of force, truth, love and 
beauty. MateriaUsm is the manifestation of the blindness 
of physical science. It is, indeed, strongly i^esisted by 
many scientific observers, in whom zeal and eminence in 
the various paths of experimental research are found united 
to deep spirituality. In spite, however, of the influence of 
such minds, it can hardly be questioned that the present 
prevailing tendency of scientific thought is materialistic. 
There are several reasons why this is to be expected. 

Materialism consists essentially in limiting the thought, 
more or less closely, to the objects of sense that first arrest 
the attention. Our relations with the physical creation 
are so intimate, the changes that matter has undergone in 
time past, and which it undergoes under our observation, 
and under our own hands, are of such immediate and 
practical importance, and the useful properties of its in- 
numerable forms are so varied, and so essential to our 
wants, that attention is naturally first drawn to, and occu- 
pied by, these more obvious features, before it can pene- 
trate to the spiritual realities that are manifested through 
them. 

Then, again the study of the phenomena which nature 
presents in its many scrolls, forever being unrolled, de- 
mands minute observation, and long-continued fixedness 
of thought; and so the tendency of this study is, especially 
at first, to render the mind indisposed, and in some cases 
positively unable, to look with any concern above a field 
which it sees to be so important and so boundless. 

Undoubtedly the chief reason for the present abnormal 
influence of scientific pursuits is their novelty. Physical 
science is the birth of yesterday. We are in the midst of 
its discoveries. The attitude of the scientific mind is to a 
great degree that of the learner, absorbed in details, and 
to whom as yet these details are everything. 



88 

So it results that the legitimate spiritual influence of 
the physical creation is often felt the least by those who 
are especially devoted to its study. On the one hand, the 
tendency of all such investigations is to cultivate a devo- 
tion to truth for its own sake, to develop a spirit of dispas- 
sionate inquiry and conscientious fidelity, and to form 
habits of close discrimination. But, on the other hand, 
the necessity for following nature into deeper and deeper 
recesses exercises the mind m considering the niinute 
rather than the great, the particular rather than the uni- 
versal, in analyzing rather than in combining, and tends 
to fix the attention upon what appear to it as material 
things, which address the mind through the physical 
organs of sense, and which can be measured and weighed, 
as if these were themselves the ultimate subjects of 
thought. 

Thus there comes to be shown by many devotees of 
physical science a remarkable willingness to grind in the 
prison house of phenomena, and a disposition to ignore, as 
subjects for scier.tific inquiry, the spiritual realities that 
are manifested through all physical forms of being, and 
also the spiritual perception through which those realities 
are made known to us. 

Respecting the essential nature of what we call matter, 
we are wholly ignorant. Taking its forms, as these are 
presented to our senses, we have resolved combination 
after combination, until our means of analysis have failed; 
and in this way we have arrived at what we term *' ele- 
ments." Observing the reverse of this process, as it goes 
on in nature, we find these supposed elements combining 
with one another in invariable modes, and then we see the 
compounds thus formed combining with each other, or 
separating, so that their constituents may enter into dif- 
ferent combinations; all in obedience to forces which are 
revealed only in these effects. Thus there is presented to 
us a wide diversity of forms and properties of matter, 
within what we call the inorganic creation. 

Then, under the power of another class of forces, more 
mysterious still, we see these elements and their com- 
pounds entering into new combinations of a far more 
complicated nature, and in these combinations exhibiting 



8!) 

forms and properties far more varied and remarkable. 
Now there appear organisms, activities which come within 
the i-each of our observation, growth and reproduction, 
followed, after a longer or a shortei" period, by decomposi- 
tion and a return to inorganic forms of being. 

In this stage we witness the united and concurrent 
action of all physical agencies, as light, including rays 
that do not affect our visual drgans, heat, the gases which 
compose and which are contained in the atmosphere, 
water, and mineral forms of mattei*, each one performing 
its necessary function, and all harmoniously cooperating, 
in the work of clothing the earth with the varied forms of 
vegetable life. 

And now there is seen a greater wonder. When matter 
has reached these higher combinations, and has become 
organized under the action of the vegetative forces, then, 
and not until then, it becomes endowed with the power to 
sustain animal life ; and in its more highly organized 
forms, as, for example, the fi-uit and not the wood, the 
grain and not the stalk, the flesh and not bone or hide, it 
is adapted to support the life of man. 

In thus sustaining animal existence, matter yields 
obedience to a still higher class of forces, and enters into 
additional combinations of a still more complicated nature, 
and organisms of a different and higher character appear. 
Now there come forth beings, with consciousness and fac- 
ulties and purposes and charactrir. 

As ii] vegetable life, so here also, the submission that 
matter yields to the higher forces is only temporary, and 
a constant tendency appears to return to inorganic forms. 
In animal life we witness again the successive phenomena 
of growth and decay of the individual, while the species is 
perpetuated by reproduction. 

It is to be observed that in animate being there are man- 
ifested two distinct orders of force. The first of these con- 
sists of the merely vital forces, which act to sustain animal 
existence, independently of volition or even of conscious- 
ness. The second class comprises the conscious and volun- 
tary activities which supervene to the merely animal ex- 
istence. The latter forces are of a nature higher than the 
former, as those are higher than the vegetative forces, and 



90 

as those in turn are higher than the forces that are mani- 
fested in inorganic being. Thus we have presented to us 
four distinct classes or orders of force, which together 
constitute a series, ascending by high and abrupt steps. 
But all alike manifest themselves only through matter. 
And, so far as we are yet able to discover, the same ele- 
ments reside in each of the forms of being, and constitute 
the rock, and the tree, and the bird, and man endowed 
with intelligence to observe them all. 

One ^vould expect that, surrounded by these wonders, 
himself the crowning wonder of all, man would be pro- 
foundly impressed with a sense of the superficial character 
of the little that he can know, and of the infinite depth of 
that knowledge which is hidden from him. Upon many 
minds, indeed, this effect is produced in different degrees, 
but it is remarkable how many thinking men exhibit an 
inclination, more or less decided, to rest satisfied with that 
which they imagine they can understand, and with re- 
peating the very words they have been taught, and to make 
these the boundary of their thought. Inquire of such a per- 
son, for example, respecting that mystery, the cause that 
determines the coloi-s of bodies, and he will explain to you, 
as it has been explained to him, that each body absorbs 
the other rays of light, and reflects only rays of the color 
which it appears to have. His own questioning is satis- 
fied, and so he supposes that he has told all about it. 

The atomic theory constitutes the present bulwark of 
materialism. This theory, proposed by Dr. Dalton, in the 
early part of the present century, as explanatoiy of chem- 
ical action, was the work of a comprehensive mind, and 
was a great step in advance of the previous chaotic condi- 
tion of science. It has accounted, or has appeared to do 
so, for all observed phenomena. 

As held at the present day, it is. briefly, that each one 
of the assumed elemental forms of matter consists of ma- 
terial atoms, of definite forms and dimensions, indestruc- 
tible and indivisible, and that these atoms are separated 
from each othei', even in the most dense substances, by 
mensurable distances, which aie fixed by an equilibrium 
of attracting and repelhng forces ; that between the atoms 
of many different substances there exist attractions, vary- 



91 

ing greatly in degree, but which are always the same be- 
tween the atoms of the same two elements ; that when 
the atoms of different elements are brought together, 
under conditions favorable to their union, these atoms 
exercise selection and choice, and those which have the 
strongest affinity for each other unite in definite propor- 
tions, and so form what are termed molecules, which in 
their aggregation appear as compound substances ; and 
finally, that these molecules also combine with one another 
in endlessly varied ways, and that by these coml^inations 
of atoms and molecules the whole inorganic and organic 
creation is constituted. 

The atoms must be exceedingly minute, so minute, 
indeed, that even those molecules which comprise the 
greatest number of atoms, as, for example, those which 
constitute the most highly organized forms of matter, are 
themselves so small, as to be, not merely beyond the 
power of the microscope to discover them, but beyond its 
power to make any sensible progress toward their dis- 
covery. 

The atoms were at one time described as being infinitely 
small, whatever that might mean. Latterly some definite- 
ness has been attempted respecting their dimensions. For 
example, the smallest drop of water that can be dis- 
tinguished in the microscope is about -g-o Vro of an inch in 
diameter, and it is said that each one of these drops of 
water contains about S,000 millions of molecules. The 
molecules are believed, moreover, to be small relatively to 
the spaces which separate them, and in these spaces to be 
in a state of ceaseless vibration. These vibrations are 
considered to be the" cause of the phenomenon which we 
term heat. It is supposed that the force or amplitude of 
the vibrations, determines the degree of heat, and that the 
complete cessation of them would be the absolute cold. 
These are the leading features of this celebrated theory. 
The manner in which it seems to account for the phenom- 
ena of heat, both sensible and latent, has been regarded as 
affording strong confirmation of its truth. 

Our advance in knowledge is, of necessity, made one 
step at a time. These steps must often be separated by 
long intervals, and each one, when taken, naturally ap- 



92 

pears to many minds to be the last. The atomic theory- 
was a great step, and the philosophic mind has rested 
upon it for a time proportionately long. Bat the world is 
now prepared for another step. This theory does not get 
beyond mechanical divisibility. It encourage>^, and prob- 
ably grew out of, the disposition to contemplate the atom 
rather than the force. In the material atom it fixes a 
point of beginning, which, though far removed from our 
sight, is quite within our comprehension, for we made it. 

An amusing illustration of the hmitation of philosophic 
thought to the material atoni, and of the satisfaction 
which our education enables us to derive from what is in 
reality utterly unsatisfying, is afforded in those numerous 
cases, in which the same element or compound constitutes 
two or more substances, which have entirely different 
characters. Chemists tell us that in these different sub- 
stances the atoms or the molecules are differently arranged, 
so as to constitute ge^unetric figures of different forms, 
and they really suppose they have explained the whole 
matter. It is obvious, that on the assumed data of ma- 
terial atoms, and of the formation of all substances by the 
assembling together of these atoms, or of the njolecules 
formed by their union, this is the only thing there is to be 
said ; and it is equally obvious that this bold guess work 
affords no explanation at all, and that these phenomena 
point to something beyond the limits of our present 
knowledge, as their cause. 

All analogies are opposed to the doctrine of material 
atoms Let us first apply to this doctrine the analogies 
that are furnished by mechanical science. This science 
teaches us to look with extreme distrust upon anythmg 
that is the creation of our own minds. Whenever, in the 
process of mechanical development, our conceptions are 
brought to the test of actual experiment and observation, 
we have seen that they are almost invariably shown to be 
illusions. In almost every case, we find that we had not 
reached the bottom of the subject. The history of mechani- 
cal progress is a history of surprises and disenchantment. 
This experience in mechanics is so nearly a uniform one, 
that the engineer is compelled to reason in this way with 
respect to the notion of material atoms : "Is this a con- 



93 

ception formed respecting that which hes wholly beyond 
the reach of our observation ? Yes. Then there is no 
reasonable probability that it can be true. Unknown con- 
ditions are sure to exist, and these, if known, would almost 
certainly show the conception to be an idle one." 

AVe are in fact mere tyros in knowledge. How absurd 
then to suppose that we can form a correct conception of 
the ultimate condition of what we call matter. In every 
research, we soon aiiive at a point where our powers fail. 
It is a general observation that, as the path ot knowledge 
widens it grows fainter also, until it becomes lost in mys- 
tery unfathomable. 

Chemists have found sixty-three substances that they can- 
not resolve, and so of course they have concluded that these 
cannot be resolved, but are the elemental forms of matter, 
constituting a good solid foundation of all things, a sub- 
stantial starting point in the search after physical truth. 

One cannot help being reminded of Fahrenheit, w^ho 
first constructed a mercury thermometer, about one hun- 
dred and fifty years ago, and who, as is supposed, himself 
believed, and at any rate induced scientific men of that 
day to accept the idea, that he had found the absolute 
cold, which point he named zero. This fitly illustrates the 
absurdity of assuming as absolute points which really 
mark nothing except the present limitation of our knowl- 
edge. 

There is in truth no warrant at all for the belief that we 
have arrived at any primal element. It is unphilosophical 
to suppose that the process of combination, which we be- 
hold extended to such extreme complexity, with the man- 
ifestation at each successive step of properties more and 
more astonishing, actually begins at a definite point which 
we have asi^ertained, and that the ultimate forms of all 
things are thus brought within our comprehension. 

In fact the philosophic mind is already showing signs of 
outgrowing this belief. We seem likely to pass through 
this to a higher stage of knowledge before very long. In- 
quirers are beginning to search after the unit atom, with 
a strong probability that the inquiry will lead, as many 
an one has done before, to results of a nature quite unex- 
pected. The resolution of any supposed principal element 



94: 

would be a blow to the atomic theory; not that the belief 
in material atoms could not be extended so as to embrace 
such new conditions, but the confidence of philosophers 
in all such assumptions would be lost, as unquestionably 
it ought to be. 

We have considered the existence of the atom, or ulti- 
mate indivisible unit of matter, to be an assumption. It 
is, however, rather a conclusion from another assumption. 
This latter assumption is, that force can be exerted only 
between bodies. Men had observed that the earth attracts 
falling bodies, that the magnet attracts particles of iron, 
and that the non-conductor, when electrically excited, at- 
tracts or repels the feather, and they naturally extended 
this idea, so as to embrace a similar action far removed 
from their sight. They assumed that there also something 
must exist, to attract and to be attracted. This analogy 
is still clung to, and men profess to be satisfied with it, al- 
though it is obvious, that the phenomena which are pre- 
sented in chemical action are only suggested in the most 
general w^ay by attractions that act through sensible dis- 
tances. 

With respect to this subject, it is to be observed, that 
three phenomena are known, namely, force, choice, which 
is termed by chemists elective affinity, and uniformity of 
action. To these there must be added the properties that 
are exhibited by the supposed elemental forms of matter, 
and by their various combinations. These properties, 
which vary with each elemental or compound substance, 
are evidently intended. They are in all cases essential to 
subsequent effects produced, each one contributes to 
some ultimate result. They cannot, therefore, be con- 
ceived to be accidental. Only one alternative remains. 
They indicate a purpose. 

Four realities, then, certaiuly exist. These are force, 
choice, uniformity of action, and a purpose that directs 
every act. The first three of these reveal themselves di- 
rectly. Indeed they are assumed in the argument for the 
existence of the atom. The last one we have seen to be 
manifested no less certainly. Now these four reahties are 
not only certain ; they are also sufficient. The material 
atom is superfluous. Faraday's definition of the atom, 



95 

as a point of force, has the merit of not assuming the 
creation of our own fancy to be a reality. The fact that 
we are not able to form a definite conception of a point of 
force increases the probability that the expression may 
contain the truth. 

The belief in the existence of the material atom has, in 
fact, no other basis than our education and habit of 
thought, or rather, our habit of not thinking. This behef 
is pretty strongly intrenched in authority. The general 
idea of atoms, as self-existent entities, is derived from 
heathen philosophy, and mankind have been more or less 
familiar with it for twenty-three hundred years. Science, 
however, pays no regard to human authority, and if this 
be disregarded, the case stands thus : In the behavior of 
what we call matter, we observe only force, choice, uni- 
formity of action and purpose. These four realities are 
established by conclusive evidence. They ai'e manifested 
through all material forms of being. From them men 
deduce diametrically opposite conclasions. They are 
viewed by each mind in the light that is determined by the 
general direction of its own thought. 

On the one hand, the materialist, who insists upon 
limiting his thought, as closely as possible, to that which 
is immediately disclosed to him through his physical or- 
gans of perception, and which he tries to believe that he 
can understand, carries on his subdivision of matter to 
the atom. Here he rests. This imaginary thing becomes 
for him the ultimate and the only reality. Force, choice 
and uniformity of action, all which he admits, are viewed 
by him merely as incidents of the atom. These realities, 
which even to his own mind are fully established, yet, 
simply because they cannot in their nature be seen and 
handled, be measured or weighed, are regarded by him as 
only incidental to that, of the existence of which he has 
no evidence at all. which he only imagines to exist. Pur- 
pose is something that the materialist finds it difficult to 
attribute to the atom, and so he shuts his eyes to it. He 
can see properties of mattei-s. He is compelled, moreover, 
to admit that all physical results are dependent upon the 
possession by different forms of matter of these distin- 
guishing properties. But he can't see any purpose; and 



96 

this for no reason except that he cannot attribute purpose 
to the atom. 

Singularly enough, while the attention of physicists has 
been fixed on material atoms so long, that it has come to 
be all the same as if they saw them, while atoms are as 
real to them as witches are to Africans, these are in reality 
an impertinence in the atomic theory itself, as far as this 
theory is scientific. The only fact that is established by 
observation is, that substances combine with one another 
in multiple proportions. All beyond this is guess-work, 
or the opposite of science. It must in fairness be stated, 
that this is all that it is claimed to be. We have the law 
of multiple proportions, and on this law is based the theory 
of atoms. 

So much for the attitude of the materialist. On the 
other hand, those inquirers who in observing employ also 
their spiritual apprehension, whose perceptions are not 
limited to sensible forms, but who are able also to see the 
spiritual realities*that are contained within and are mani- 
fested through these forms, those minds perceive, clearly 
enough, that we cannot rationally conceive of force, or of 
choice, or of uniformity of action, any more than we can 
conceive of purpose, as anything less than attributes of a 
Being. They reason from their own consciousness. Ee- 
specting purpose and choice, they see at once that these 
are equally functions of mind ; and that neither one, and 
one no more than the other, can be conceived to be a prop- 
erty of matter. Uniformity of action is seen by them to 
be nothing less than uniformity of purpose, joined Avith 
absolute power of accomplishment. Force, when exerted 
by ourselves, is the expression of our wills ; and so the 
only conception of force in nature that can be formed by 
such minds is, that it is the manifestation of a will. 

As, therefore, the phenomena of nature are contemplat- 
ed by minds which ar-e capable of this spiritual insight, 
the demonstrated truth appears of the presence and activ- 
ity of an infinite and changeless Being. All that is ob- 
servable by them are the attributes of such a Being. 
There is no point at which such minds can rest, at which 
their questionings can find intelligible answers, until they 
rest in the conception of such a personal Being. 



97 

The development of the mind, to whose illumined sight 
all this becomes obvious, will be considered in a subse- 
quent paper, when this subject shall be reached in the 
orderly sequence of our thought. Such a spiritual insight 
is, however, assumed to be possessed by tlie reader, at least 
in some degree, in the reuiarks with w]jich this paper will 
be concluded. 

The theory of atoms has been a real help, in the prog- 
ress of the human mind towards its full development. 
This theory has served as the necessary step, by which men 
shall mount, from the gross idea of matter, as these are 
at first conveyed to the mind by the senses, up to the iK>si- 
tion from which they can reach foi-ward to the truth. By 
the contemplation of these imaginary things, far removed 
from our sight, we have become, or are becoming, gradu- 
ally prepared for the reception of the awe-inspiiing truth, 
of what has not inaptly been termed *' the divine imma- 
nency." or the infinite mode of the divine omnipresence. 

This truth requires for its complete apprehension only 
the full development of that spiritual perception, which, 
however unconsciously, we begin to employ in the appre- 
hension of force. This same spiritual apprehension will 
enable us to see, that the univei*se of what we call matter 
is the infinitely varied manifestation, not of force only, 
but of all spiritual realities, in their unity, and of the In- 
finite Being in whom these inhere ; and that the creation 
has its chief value and significance for us as such mani- 
festation. 

True science cannot impose a Hmit to thought, nor toler- 
ate any impediment to its progie^s. The following propo- 
sitions must become the axioms of liberated science : 

All spii-itual realities are fully revealed to man ; 

This i*evelalion is made in every manner that is best 
adapted to the supply of his physical and his spiiitual 
wants, and to the development of his physical and his 
spiritual natures : 

An equal apprehension of all spiritual realities is essen- 
tial to a correct conception even of physical truth. 

Of these spiritual i-ealities, force is the one that fii-st 
compels our attention, but all ahke are the attributes and 
the manifestations of a pei-sonal God. 



9S 

In the educational work that shall prepare the mind for 
the reception of this true philosophy, mechanical science 
must bear a leading part. In other branches of physics, 
students may allow their minds to dwell on the fiction 
of material atoms, and may even regard these as ultimate 
subjects of thought. But mechanical science leads the 
mind dii^ectly to force. Mechanics is the fii*st of the 
sciences to arrive at the distinct recognition of this mani- 
festation of the universal presence; and it must operate 
powerfully to make, not force merely, but the other 
spiritual realities, which we shall see to be intimately 
associated with force, controlling elements in determining 
the future direction of thought. 

Confining our attention for the present to force, we per- 
ceive at once that it is necessary that the forces which we 
are intended to employ shaU be manifested to as in ways 
that shall enable us to employ them. [N'ow from the very 
constitution of our nature we could know nothing about 
any forces, except through just such concrete embodi- 
ments of them as those which have actually been given to 
us. The inconceivably varied ways in which forces are 
mani^^ested are all adapted to our natui-e. and to the service 
of our wiUs and the accomphshment of oui' purposes. 
The adaptation of man and these manifestations of force 
to each other is mutual and complete. 

If only we are able to overcome the influence of false 
education, and the habit of using expressions ready made 
in the place of thoughts, we shall find it quite as easy to 
conceive aU bodies to be. what undoubtedly they really 
are. manifestations of force, in modes adapted to our con- 
stitution and wants, as it is to conceive them to be 
aggregations of invisible atoms held together by force. 
The real nature of all things with which we are so 
familiar IS certainly wrapped in profoundest mystery. 

When, however, we extend our view, by the method 
hereafter to be presented, it ^vill become apparent that 
force is only one of the spiritual realities by which we are 
environed. It is believed that it is not too much to say 
that the universe, as it is now shown to us, presents the 
complete manifestation of all spiritual realities, or the full 
revelation of the Infinite Being. This may at first appear 



99 

to be an over statement, but I am inclined to think that 
it is the true one, and that there are considerations, which 
if due weight be given to them, will be conclusive of its 
truth. 

If the revelation of God be made in the creation at all, 
it seems inconceivable that it should be partially, incom- 
pletely or imperfectly made. The divine nature must be 
a unit, a whole, incapable of division in its expression; 
so that, if God is revealed in the creation at all, it seems 
a necessary conclusion that, in reality, in point of fact, he 
must be completely revealed. 

But not to us. Alas ! not to us. The knowledge of 
God that ive derive from this revelation, or the degree of 
this revelation to us, must of necessity, be limited by the 
capacity of each individual to receive it. A limit to our 
perception is formed by the imperfect development of a 
nature like to the nature of God, by which only such 
revelation could be fully apprehended. Our natures may 
be in a condition completely abnormal, so as to repel this 
revelation instead of admitting it in even the least degree. 
From this state up to that receptive condition of the soul 
to which the presence of God in the universe could be im- 
parted fully, or in an infinite degree, the change must be 
one entirely in our own nature, and not in the least a 
change in the revelation itself. 

In accordance with the universal law of spiritual per- 
ception, by w^hich like is possible to be i-evealed only to 
like, w^e are able to perceive the being of God, and his 
presence in the universe, only in that degree in which our 
natures become like to his own. Hei-e is found the natu- 
ral explanation of the fact to which attention was called in 
an earlier paper, that, of the various manifestations of the 
divine presence that are made in the creation, men are 
ready enough to recognize those which they can conceive 
of independently, and not as such manifestations of God ; 
while multitudes remain insensible to those other mani- 
festations of his presence which, in point of fact, are 
equally obvious and equally universal, as well as equally 
necessary to us, our association with which is just as close 
and our dependence upon whicli is just as absolute, but 
whichj by the exercise of all our ingenuity, we cannot 



100 

separate from the idea of a personal and omnipotent 
Deity. 

Between these two classes of manifestations of the in- 
finite Being, namely, those which can be dissociated from 
him in our thought, and those which cannot be so sepa- 
rated from him, science, in the present stage of its growth, 
has assumed to draw a line, and liiuits its view exclusively 
to force. 

Our subject, however, has only its beginning here. We 
shall enter the door that mechanical science opens so 
widely, and within which lies the whole realm of truth in 
its unity. 

In presenting the views above expressed, it has been 
necessary, in some degree, to anticipate conclusions which 
will be reached in subsequent papers. This is to be re- 
gretted, but it seemed unavoidable. If the reader now 
has difficulty in yielding assent to some expressions, I 
hope as he proceeds he may find that those difficulties 
disappear. 



J 



101 



THE REVELATION OF FORCE. 



The subject of force as it is revealed in its effects, or of 
the effects of force, has already been considered. With 
the effects of force physical science is concerned, but not 
with the nature of force itself. Science defines force to be 
something that produces or tends to produce motion. It 
does not inquire what this something is. This is a ques- 
tion about which it feels no interest. The inquiries of 
science are directed entirely to the forms and degrees of 
the manifestations of force. 

But there are other questions respecting force that are 
to be asked and answered. The first of these questions is: 
How do we get our notion or idea of force t We see, for 
example, water lifted and water falling ; we see vehicles 
and cars and boats put in motion, and kept in motion, by 
animals, by the wind and by steam; and with these phe- 
nomena, as well as with many others, we associate in our 
minds the idea of forc€ being exerted. How do we get 
this idea ( 

Our conception of force is derived from our own con- 
sciousness. I am conscious of the exertion of force my- 
self, in one and another of a great number of ways. I 
observe the eft'ect, in imparting motion to some object, 
that is evidently produced by each of these exertions of 
force, and which effect it was, in each case, my intention 
to produce by such exertion. 

I am conscious, also, of resistances which are, in differ- 
ent degTees, opposed by these objects to my exertions of 
force; and which render it necessary for me to exert my 
force in corresponding degrees, in order to overcome them, 
and produce the motions that I wish to impart to the 
objects. 

Then I observe around me effects being produced, in im- 
parting motion to bodies, that are similar to those effects 
that I produce by the exertion of my own force. When 
contemplating these effects I am conscious of sensations 



102 

similar to those that I experience when exerting force my-' 
self. Especially if these effects are the same, both in kind 
and degree, as those that I have produced, the identity of 
the sensation is very noticeable. 

For example, by working the handle of a pump I am 
able, with a certain exertion of force, to lift a column of 
water with a given velocity from a given depth. I see 
another person doing the same thing. Of course, I at 
once recognize the fact that he is making the same effort 
that I was making. Then I see the same thing being done 
by a windmill, or by animal power, or by a little air engine, 
or steam engine. In either case, by the same association, 
and by an equal necessity, I recognize the fact that a force 
is being exerted by the wind, or the animal, or the heated 
air, or the steam, identical with that which I had exerted 
myself. 

For another example : I am taught that the atmosphere 
exerts a pressure of about 14.7 lbs. on each square inch of 
the surface of every object that is immersed in it. But if I 
try myself to lift a partially exhausted receiver I get an 
impression of this fact far more vivid than any words 
could give to me. I compare this pressure with other 
resistances which I am accustomed to overcome by my 
own exertion of force. 

These illustrations are sufficient to show the fact, that 
our perception of force is an act of recognition. We 
observe an effect, and we feel the same sensation that we 
felt when we have produced a similar eft'ect ourselves ; and 
so we recognize the same force as being exerted. It fol- 
lows, that a person not capable of exerting force, or who 
had in fact never made such exertion, would not be able 
to form an idea of force. This is undoubtedly true. One, 
for example, who had never lifted anything could not form 
a conception of weight. No conception of weight, or of 
the exertion of force to overcome it, has, by our suppo- 
sition, ever been formed in his consciousness that could be 
recalled or revived by any effect observed. He would not 
recognize the exertion of force, and would be entirely 
unconscious of either force or resistance. His perception 
would be wholly limited to the motion that he sees. This 
is, in fact, continually the case with every one. Few per- 



10'6 

sons, for example, can form any notion from the move- 
ments of a steam engine, whether any force is being- 
exerted through it or not. This cannot even be known by 
an expert, unless he observes some particular part of the 
engine where to his eye the amount of power transmitted 
is indicated. 

In this manner, then, we form our primary conception 
of force. We conceive of it as an effort, applied to over- 
come a resistance, or an opposing force ; such as we are 
conscious of making ourselves. But for this sensation in 
consciousness, corresponding with that which we have felt 
w^hen we have put forth the exertion of force ourselves, 
and which sensation is revived or reproduced when we 
witness similar effects, w^e could have no idea of force, as 
exerted by other men, by animals, or by any natural 
agencies, nor of the resistances which these forces are ex- 
erted to overcome. Enveloped in a universe of forces, a 
being who had never himself made a conscious exertion of 
force could form no notion of them, and could have no 
know^ledge of their existence. 

This determination of the mode of our perception of 
force is one of primary importance. This is the invariable 
mode of spiritual perception. We shall find that all other 
spiritual realities are, like force, perceived by recognition, 
and that we are dead to the existence of those of which 
we are not ourselves capable. 

It was observed respecting the perception of sensible 
objects and also of abstract truths, that the modes of these 
perceptions were precisely adapted to the natures of the 
objects revealed, that in each case the mode of revelation 
employed was the only mode in which the revelation of 
the class of objects could be made to us, and that this 
mode of revelation was conclusive, to the mind that was 
prepared to receive it, of the reality of the object revealed, 
and also of the correctness of its apprehension of it. 

Attention is now called to the fact that the same thing 
is true of the revelation of force to us by recognition. 
This is obviously the only way in which we could receive 
this revelation, and it is conclusive to our minds. No 
doubt as to the reality of force, or the correctness of our 
notion of it, ever occurs, or ever can occur, to any one. 



I 



104: 

We note further that, precisely as it would be absurd for 
one who could not form in his mind an image or concep- 
tion of an abstract truth to deny its existence, so it would 
be as manifestly absurd for one who had no conscious ex- 
perience of the exertion of force to deny the existence of 
force. 

Our first question, how do we get our notion or idea of 
force, is now answered, and we pass to the second question : 
What is force \ This is a question of a still more serious 
nature, but it is one that admits of a definite and certain 
answer. 

Force constitutes one of the quaternion of spiritual reah- 
ties. Truth. Love and Beauty form the remaining sides 
of the four-square city. Force is, however, distinguished 
from truth, love and beauty in two respects. First, it has 
no opposite, and so has in itself no moral quality. Second, 
while each of these realities is capable of degrees of mani- 
festation, force is the only one, the degrees of which are 
comparable and mensurable with precision by man. We 
are conscious of different amounts or degrees of 
force, as exerted by ourselves. Starting from these, we 
are able, by mere multiphcation or division, to express 
force in amounts which, on the one hand, are exceedingly 
minute, and. on the other hand, surpass our own powers to 
any extent whatever, and we are able to state and, within 
moderate Hmits, to exhibit, these relative degrees of force 
with exactness. 

Forming our idea of force in the manner above de- 
scribed, and which is obviously the only possible manner, 
we cannot, except by violence, dissociate in our minds the 
conception of force from the conception of a being, by 
whom the force is exerted, and whose purpose is accom- 
plished in its exertion. Of this being the force must be 
one form of manifestation, every exertion of it must be a 
direct expression of his nature. This we are conscious is 
the case in every exertion of force that is made by our- 
selves, and we see it to be the case in every exertion of 
force that is made by other men and by animals. There 
is no exertion of force by men or animals that we do not 
recognize to be the manifestation of spiiitual qualities, of 
a disposition. 



105 

ConcerniDg force as exerted by ourselves, we observe 
that it is not self -active, nor self -directed. It acts indif- 
ferently in any direction, for the accomplishment of any 
purpose, and as the manifestation of any disposition. In 
order that it shall be exerted at all, there must exist a 
mind, having a purpose to be accomplished, and a dispo- 
sition to be manifested. 

It is customary to say that force, as exerted by our- 
selves, is directed by the will, and there to stop, as if a full 
explanation had been given. When, however, we look 
closely to find out what is meant by this expression, we 
find that it does not mean anv thing. If we search to dis- 
cover how much progress we have made towards learning 
what it is that calls our force into exercise, and determines 
the direction in which it shall be exerted, we cannot find 
that we have made any progress. If we have done any- 
thing more than to substitute in the place of force 
another word that, so far as this inquiry is concerned, 
means the same thing, it will be found a very difficult 
matter to show what this is. 

The will is just as indifferent as force. It needs to be 
called into activity, and to have the direction of its activ- 
ity determined, precisely as force does. Indeed, force, as 
exerted by man, is nothing but the expression of his will 
through physical media. Just as man receives his knowl- 
edge of the outer world through his physical senses, so he 
impresses his will upon the outer world primarily through 
his physical strength. In the case of a being who does not 
act through physical media, will and force certainly may 
be, and so far as we can see they must be, one and the 
same thing. We have thus far merely found and identi- 
fied, in the will, the spiritual form of force. 

We must go back of the will, and inquire what it is 
that calls the will itself into activity, and determines the 
mode and direction of its activity. What is it that con- 
trols and guides our conduct ? It will be answered: Our 
conduct is determined by the purpose that we have formed. 
Still only words. Purpose is only another form of ex- 
pression, that means the same thing. What has deter- 
mined our purpose ? Why have we formed this purpose, 
rather than the opposite purpose ? 



106 

We are now driven back to the real and only spring of 
all our activity, when this activity is exercised freely. We 
have reached the ego, the very I. We have found that 
which determines all conduct, and constitutes all charac- 
ter. We have arrived at the affections, at the emotional 
nature, which is, indeed, the whole nature of every being. 
Here we find the motive, the self- active, and self -directed 
power. We have penetrated to the engine room, and 
have found what it is that makes everything go. Here 
at last is the reality, the free emotional nature is force. 
All that this word has been employed to signify, and to 
which the application of it is commonly limited, are only 
those external manifestations or exertions of force which 
are observable by us through our senses. The self -active 
emotional spirit is the force itself. It will be found that 
there is no voluntary exertion of force, for which we are 
not obliged to go back" to our emotional nature, in order 
to find its primary and essential cause or motive. 

It is thus rendered obvious, that the conception of force 
in nature which dissociates it from the idea a Being is 
wrong. This conception is just what it claims to be, that 
is, no conception at all. It merely declares force to be 
something, known only in its effects. If any definite or in- 
telligible idea of force in nature is to be found, it must be, 
that it is the manifestation of the nature of a Being. We 
repeat the appeal to our own consciousness. We are com- 
pelled to say, that force when exerted by ourselves is the 
outw^ard expression of the real force within us, which is 
found in our affections. These are the ultimate and real 
spring of every free conscious act. Then the only concep- 
tion that we can form of force in nature, and the concep- 
tion that we must form of it, unless we refuse to form any 
at all, is, that this force, in all its varied forms, is the ex- 
pression of the nature of an Infinite Being. 

But our analogy carries us further than this. Our own 
affections cannot have for their object any form of what 
we term matter. This spring of our activity is never ani- 
mated by matter. Something beyond matter determines 
every exertion of force by ourselves. Matter may often 
be very closely associated with this outward manifestation 
of our spiritual activity, but it is always employed only as 



107 

a means, never as an end in itself. The real object which 
calls our spiritual force into exercise, and so determines 
the outward expression of it. is always a being, either our- 
self or another. Our own activity always terminates on a 
being, and every free conscious act is performed with im- 
mediate or ultimate reference to a being, but for which 
being there would be no impulse to its performance, and it 
would not be performed. 

We are obliged to complete our conception of force in 
nature in the same manner, and to regard it not merely as 
the expression of the nature of an Infinite Being, but, 
moreover, as the expression of such a nature with refer- 
ence either to itself or to other beings. And this is con- 
duct. The fundamental importance of this truth is per- 
ceived at once. It changes the impersonal view of force 
in nature into a personal conception. 

I shall not here enter further into this subject, but in 
subsequent papers shall endeavor to approach the same 
great centre from other directions. 

At the commencement of the Civil War in America, the 
causes of it were discussed in England in essays and ad- 
dresses, in which allusion to the institution of slavery was 
carefuUy avoided. These discussions were humorously 
and happily likened to the play of Hamlet with the part 
of Hamlet left out. So physical science, with its object- 
ive methods, like a child whose thought does not get be- 
yond what it can see and handle, endeavors to compre- 
hend creation with the Creator left out. Science is, how- 
ever, compelled to admit the existence of one reality, that 
is not revealed tons through our physical organs of per- 
ception. Having arbitrarily severed force from its neces- 
sary connection witli a Being, science is obliged to admit 
that it cannot form any conception of it at aU. 

It is interesting to observe, how the very occupation, to 
which the materialist endeavors to confine himself, of 
weighing matter, of the existence of which only he is cer- 
tain, which he can see and handle, is after all nothing else 
than comparing the degrees of this first spiritual reality— 
of what is to him the mystery of force. 



108 



THE UNITY OF PHYSICAL AND 
SPIRITUAL TRUTH. . 

Thus far mechanics has beerx considered as the science 
of force. It is more than this. It is also the science of 
truth. We have seen its power to free the mind from all 
forms of authority over thought and belief, and to lead the 
inquirer after truth directly to its source. We have now to 
observe its influence in a somewhat different respect. It 
will be shown to render valuable aid, perhaps it should be 
regarded as indispensable aid, towards the true and healthy 
development of our spiritual being. It does this by dis- 
closing the essential unity of physical and spiritual truth, 
and rendering it obvious that truth in its unity can be ap- 
prehended correctly only by the spirit in its unity. 

In introducing the subject of truth, it will be desirable 
to anticipate, in this single respect, the general subject of a 
subsequent paper, by calling attention here to the harmony 
that appears between the physical and the verbal forms of 
revelation, in this particular of truth. 

The law of truth stands written in the human conscience, 
but the consistent observance of it is beyond the reach of 
human nature. This law has been inculcated by all sages, 
and it underlies the legislation of every age and everv race. 
It commands the involuntary homage of man. But, prac- 
tically, how fearful is the disregard of it. 

One great need of the human race is a high and un- 
changeable standard of truth. The want of the influence 
of such a standard, rising before men in the midst of the • 
daily affairs of life, inherent in the associations by which 
they are surrounded, and constantly presented to their 
gaze, is painfully apparent, not only in the history, but 
also in the present life, of our race. The difficulty does 
not lie in the actual want of such a standard. It does not 
lie in the want of more than one such standards, fully meet- 
ing the above described requirements, and in complete har- 
mony with each other. It lies in the fact that these stand- 
ards have not been regarded by men. The human spirit 
has not been opened to their influence. 



109 

First. The Bible unites with conscience, in erecting the 
standard of absokite, transparent, uncompromising truth. 
It is of the highest consequence, as well as interest, to ob- 
serve that, while the several books of the Bible were writ- 
ten at intervals, extending certainly over more than fifteen 
hundred years, and by men of great diversity of character, 
under a great variety of circumstances, and in every differ- 
ent form of composition, this fundamental unity of truth, 
associated with other unities of a remarkable nature, runs 
through it from the beginning to the end. Everywhere 
simple downright truth is demanded, and that in terms ex- 
pressing the most exalted conception of it, as the founda- 
tion of character, on w^hich alone it is possible for the struct- 
ure of spiritual life to be erected; as the fundamental ele- 
ment of the harmony, which, in the normal condition of 
the human soul, would exist between it and the divine 
author of its being, whose first attribute is declared to be 
truth that endureth to all generations. 

Second. We aie now to observe how the physical modes 
of revelation, the nature of things by which we are en- 
vironed, harmonize with the Bible in this respect, and 
especially how mechanical science helps us to perceive 
and realize this harmony. 

If we analyze our conception of truth in moral beings, we 
shall find that ihis conception involves two wholly distinct 
ideas. The primary or underlying idea is that of uniform- 
ity of action or conduct. We always know what the abso- 
lutely truthful man will do under any given circumstances. 
There can be no doubt or uncertainty about it. We know 
what to rely upon. This is the first idea. The second is 
the idea of justice. This man will do exactly what is right, . 
as he views the right. Here the element of human falli- 
bility comes in. He may be mistaken in his view, but what 
he holds to be right, that he will do. His conduct will be 
guided by the highest and best motives of which he is ca- 
pable. This is our conception of truth in moral beings. 
First, uniformity of action; second, justice in action. 

Let us at first confine our attention to the primary or 
fundamental idea of truth, which is, uniformity of action. 



110 

111 this respect at least, one who comes to engage in the 
study of mechanical science finds that he has entered the 
region of eternal truth. Here nothing can by any possi- 
bihty deceive or mislead o]' fail him. He can rest with ab- 
solute certainty in the confidence that, precisely as force is 
seen by him to act to-day. so. under the same conditions, it 
always has acted, and invariably and forever will act. This 
is a fact of unspeakable consequence. Xot the student of 
engineering alone, but the whole race of man. in aU its re- 
lations and employments, relies implicitly upon uniformity 
of action in nature. This reliance constitutes the founda- 
tion of the peace, and the encouragement to the activity, 
of every creature. Thus we find the primary idea of uni- 
formity of action, that idea which underlies our conception 
of truth m moral beings, exhibited in its complete and ab- 
solute I'ealization everywhere in nature. 

It is difficult to conceive even of mere uniformity of 
action without a moral purpose of some character, either 
good or bad, beneficent or injurious, loving or hateful, 
kind or unkmd. That is to say. it is difficult to conceive 
of action without an actor. Or rather, it woifid be diffi- 
cult to form such a conception, if we had not from our in- 
fancy been carefully educated to do it. ^laterialistic sci- 
ence has taken our education in hand, and has seen to it 
that we should be taught, in observing this uniformity 
of action in nature, to form an absolutely impersonal con- 
ception of it. We are brought up on the laws of nature. 
Truth in nature we are taught to regard as uniformity of 
action, secured by obedience to law. All idea of a Being, 
or of a moral quality in any act seen in nature, is care- 
fully excluded from the mind. Curiously enough, the 
very imiformity of action, which is the fundamental ele- 
ment of moral truth, which is the first thing we have to 
look for in the conduct of a perfect moral Being, the ab- 
sence of which would prove at once the non-existence 
of such a Being, this very uniformity of action is itself 
made use of to hide him from our sight. 

But in reality, nature presents to us the moral element 
and the Infinite Being in the clearest manner. It exhibits 
eveiywhere. not a partial, but the completest idea of 
truth. It shows us, not uniformity of action merely, but 



Ill 

also the purpose by which this action is directed. If we 
take a comprehensive survey of the subject we can hardly 
fail to perceive everywhere this consistent and most obvi- 
ous purpose. We shall see force in nature to be directed 
to a single ultimate end, and to be wholly beneficent. In 
this single beneficent end the infinite diversity of its mani- 
festations have their unity. 

Let us commence our survey with the earth itself. We 
first observe that as the earth flies through space, rotating 
on its axis, revolving about the sun, and attending him 
in his grander orbit, it holds by its attraction both man 
and all his works, and all objects upon it securely to its 
bosom. This is not a fanciful expression. It is a plain 
statement of the fact. From a contemplation of this 
supreme care we may pass to consider, in a comprehen- 
sive view, the multiplied and varied operations of all nat- 
ural agencies. As here we contemplate the harmonious 
cooperation that we behold everywhere manifested, we 
cannot fail to perceive that everything is fulfilling its ap- 
pointed oflice within a plan. Whether we attempt to 
comprehend this plan as a whole, or endeavor to explore 
any separate detail of it, in either case we find our power 
of observation and of thought transcended. Its grandeur 
and its minuteness alike overwhelm us. 

We are, however, able to apprehend this plan suf- 
ficiently well to perceive it to be animated by a central 
purpose, to the final achievement of which all subordinate 
results, in their own accomplishment, are obviously in- 
tended to contribute. We behold the earth, the air, water, 
light and heat, with all manifestations of force, together 
with the inferior creations of both vegetable and animal 
life, in one grand harmony, ministering to the service of 
man. All these agencies combine to sustain his being, to 
develop his powers and capabilities, to supply the means 
for the accomplishment of his purposes, to provide employ- 
ment for both his physical and his mental activities and 
furnish incentives to their exercise, to delight his senses, 
and to call into exercise all the highest forms of his spir- 
itual activity and satisfy their longings. Thus, in ways 
endless in their variety, all things minister to support, to 
illuminate and to gladden the existence of man. There 



112 

can be no question about this fact. Every increase in his 
knowledge, every improvement in his culture, each en- 
largement of his powers of observation and of feeling, 
enables man to see the fact ^vith increased distinctness, 
and in a continually higher sense, that his own being and 
happiness is the supreme end of the creation over which 
he finds himself to be the lord whom both things and in- 
ferior beings serve. This combined physical, intellectual 
and emotional existence of achievement and joy in man 
is, then, the single ultimate and obvious purpose of the 
unvarying activity that is to be observed in nature. 

From any candid consideration of this scheme, above all 
ideas of power and of wisdom that it conveys, the mind 
that is itself in any degree beneficent must just in that 
degree be impressed with a sense of the beneficence that 
it exhibits. As beauty can be revealed only to beauty, so 
beneficence can be perceived only by beneficence. So, 
also, in all references to moral qualities these qualities 
must be assumed to be possessed by the reader, for if they 
do not the language conveys no meaning to him. 

We note that the grander the intellectual power of the 
observer of nature, the more he becomes amazed in the 
contemplation of the mighty plan; and, on the other 
hand, the more highly his own beneficent disposition is 
developed the more deeply he is affected by the considera- 
tion of the beneficent spirit by which this plan is ani- 
mated. We seem, then, to be warranted in the conclusion 
that both wisdom and beneficence are combined in this 
plan, in degree beyond our power to recognize them, and 
that the limit to our apprehension of either is found in 
the imperfect development of wisdom and of beneficence 
in ourselves. 

The reflections thus far made point to the conclusion, 
that truth in nature is something more than uniformity 
of action, that it is uniformity of a(^tion with a beneficent 
purpose. But purpose and beneficence are both attributes 
of a being. We are thus brought to the necessity of ad- 
mitting, what the spirit of man in its healthy development 
recognize with exultation and rapture, namely, the exist- 
ence of an Infinite Being, whose ceaseless beneficence is 
manifested throughout the material creation, and of which 



113 

beneficence man is himself the supreme object. Like the 
Sabbath, all things were made for man. 

In the interpretation of nature, the blind seem thus 
far to have had it pretty much their own way. We have 
been taught to repeat absurd expressions, founded upon 
supposed exceptions to infinite beneficence, as if these 
were the rule. Men have been captivated by such sense- 
less raving of morbid poets as, " Nature, red in tooth and 
claw." The earth exerts the inconceivable benefit of its 
uniform attraction, and the blind try to fix our attention 
on somebody falling from a precipice. The sun warms 
all being into glad existence, and the blind see a man sun- 
struck. The vital air supports all life, imparts joy with 
every breath, and brings health upon its gales, and the 
blind point us to cyclones, and so on to the end of the 
chapter. It is as if we gazed upon a glorious picture, and 
could see nothing but fly specks on it. The apparent ex- 
ceptions to infinite beneficence, however, demand thought- 
ful consideration. 

Such is the definition of truth in nature. Uniform 
beneficent activity. The same definition holds good, also, 
of truth among men, with an apparent, though not a real, 
modification, that exists in the nature of things. Benefi- 
cence implies relations of superiority and dependence. 
There cannot be beneficence between equals. Here, evi- 
dently, the moral quality of truth is justice. Among men 
various kinds and degrees of dependence are observed to 
exist. When considered alone, these differences of con- 
dition often seem to be extreme; but when we take a 
more comprehensive view, we discover that in reality the 
range of this inequality is very limited indeed. One 
human being cannot be conceived to be dependent on the 
beneficence of another in any such a sense as this, that, 
without the active exercise of that beneficence each in- 
stant, in an infinite multitude and variety of ways, he 
could not exist. But this is precisely the sense, or the 
degree, in which every creature alike is dependent on that 
beneficence which is uniformly manifested throughout the 
creation by which we are surrounded. Compared with 
this dependence of every being on the infinite beneficence, 



114 

the beneficence and the dependence that are possible to 
exist between man and men very nearly disappear. 

Beneficence and justice are, however, essentially the 
same thing. They have their unity in love. This is the 
supreme active principle. Its manifestations differ in form 
as required by the various relations of the beings in whom 
it exists. Thus love, the moral quality of truth, which 
between equals manifests itself in act as justice, assumes 
the form of beneficence on the one hand, and of gratitude 
on the other, just in the degree that these practical mani- 
festations of it are called for by the existence of the rela- 
tions of superiority and dependence. These are all the 
natural expressions of the same sentiment or feeling of 
love, in different wa>s, as required by different condi- 
tions or relations. These differences of manifestation 
may even exist in our consciousness, but all these senti- 
ments, if sincerely felt, are in reality one. The same sen- 
timent of love to his neighbor impels the true man to be 
just, or generous, or grateful to him, as these expressions 
of his love are demanded by the relations that he sustains. 
Beneficence and gratitude are reciprocally due, and the 
former equally with the latter, from man to man, when 
the relations of superiority and dependence exist between 
them. In this way, as in every other, justice requires the 
hearty rendering of that which is due. Thus all manifes- 
tations of love, in outward act, are properly embraced 
under the term ''justice." This comprehensive idea of 
justice extends, it is true, far beyond the requirements of 
human laws, and far also beyond our ordinary habits of 
thought ; but it is clearly seen to be the true one. The 
term " justice " properly comprehends every form of the 
outward expression of love ; the rendering of which ex- 
pression affords, to the spirit in which the sentiment itself 
exists, and just in the degree in which the spirit is ani- 
mated by this sentiment, the same joy that is kindled by 
tlie reception of it. Truth universal we thus find to be 
uniform reciprocal just action between moral beings. It 
is the expression of love and the source of joy. 

In considering the subject of truth between man and 
man, viewed as equals, or the practical application of 
the principles that have just been dwelt upon, in the daily 



115 

intercourse of men, and in their multiplied affairs, it be- 
comes necessary to distinguish carefully between facts 
and ideals ; or, in other words, between truth as the 
reality of things, and the ideals of truth. For common 
and familiar illustrations of this necessity, we may take 
our commercial measures, the pound, the yard, the 
bushel. Persons who are accustomed to accuracy know 
very well that neither of these ideals could be absolutely 
given in any reality. But the faithful representation of 
them, in quantities of things merchantable, with the 
closest attainable approach to accuracy, is honesty. Here 
we at once recognize justice to be the essential moral 
element in truth, and also the fact that every act of a 
being must possess a moral element. Uniformity of 
action in giving short weight or measure is the opposite 
of truth. 

The ideal, as above illustrated, underlies all material 
realities. Through these realities, as the only possible 
way, the mind is continually endeavoring to reach the ex- 
pression of its ideals. Thus, for illustration, the mechanic 
has in his mind the ideals of mechanical truth, as of the 
true line, the true plane, the true cylinder, the true angle 
or division of a circle, true division of force, of space, and 
of time, truth of form, and of construction, and of me- 
chanical function. It becomes his highest aim to realize 
these ideals in sensible form, or, as it may be termed, in 
concrete expression. To this end he exhausts his ingenu- 
ity in devising methods, and his skill in the application of 
them. 

The question naturally presents itself : where is the 
moral quality found in this form of truth ? The answer 
to this question lies on the surface, as much so as in the 
case of the true pound, or yard, or bushel, which, indeed, 
are some of the very ideals that the mechanic endeavors 
to realize and embody with exactness. In these, and in all 
other cases, men are dependent on the mechanic for the 
means of measurement. Upon his. ingenuity and ski]], 
directed to the realization of his ideals, in such form that 
the expression of them can be uniformly repeated, all men 
rely, throughout their varied intercourse, and in their 
search after every form of knowledge of a physical 



116 

nature. All other men are dependent upon the mechanic 
for the means by which they shall be able to express, in 
reality, with the utmost attainable exactness, the ideal 
physical truths existing in their minds, and to discover 
those which exist in nature. The mechanic is thus called 
upon to perform a service of fundamental importance, 
and in undertaking this service he assumes a relation 
towards his fellowmen, in which justice demands from 
him the exercise of the most anxious fidelity. 

But we need not look so far as this. We may suppose 
that these uses for his labor are beyond his thought, and 
that his attention is limited to the truth itself, that he is 
endeavoring to realize this truth entirely for its own sake. 
In what he is now doing he has, by our supposition, no 
conscious relation with his fellow men, but only with his 
own conception of the mechanical truth that he is seeking 
to realize or to express. Here the moral quality appears 
in his fidelity to his ideal. It is obvious that he can be 
faithful or faithless to this, in the same sense in which he 
can be faithful or faithless to his fellow men. There ex- 
ists a moral quality in every possible act of man. He sus- 
tains always a relation of some kind, and whatever 
this relation may be, his conduct must be either true 
or false, just or unjust, right or wrong. 

The moral quality in truth among men is not, however, 
here at all in question. This is universally recognized. It 
is the moral quality in truth in nature that I am endeavor- 
ing to make clear, and the above elucidation of the general 
subject of truth is important only in its bearing on this 
demonstration, as it enables us to see in nature the pres- 
ence of the infinite moral Being with more distinctness. 
The moral quality in truth may properly be expressed by 
the word " faithfulness." Now^ the faithfulness of God in 
nature must, as it seems to me, be deeply impressed upon 
the mind that is capable of just sentiments, when it is 
considered what the consequences would be, if uniformity 
of action in nature could ever fail.. 

These consequences would be of the same character, 
although unspeakably transcending in degree, those which 
we observe to follow from deceit, misrepresentation or 
unfaithfulness in man. Imagination could not conceive the 



effect upon the human race of a general loss of confidence 
in the uniformity of action in nature; a confidence that is 
so absolute, and upon which all human affairs depend. 
When we refiect upon this view of the subject, we feel, 
indeed, that mere uniformity of action is an expression 
that is inadequate, even to mockery; and that the only 
rational conception of truth in nature is that of faith- 
fulness on the part of an Infinite Being. 

Nothing is more instructive, and nothing can be more 
fascinating to the ingenuous mind, than the contemplation 
of this faithfulness, as it is manifested in the unvarying 
uniformity of the constitution and the operation of all 
things in nature, and also of our own helpless dependence 
on this fidelity. Fi'om the multitude of illustrations, of 
this faithfulness on the one hand and dependence on the 
other, which crowd upon our attention, two, taken almost 
at random, must suffice here. 

The first illustration is this: The constitution of the at- 
mosphere, in the proportions of the two gases, oxygen and 
nitrogen, which compose it, is invariable over all the earth. 
Now of all the forms of matter that exist, or that can 
exist, in the gaseous state, and of all their combinations, it 
has been shown that this particular combination of oxygen 
and nitrogen is the only one that can sustain animal life. 
Not only is this the case, but, moreover, it is found that 
the least change from the existing proportions of these 
two gases, even though this be so trifling that all the an- 
alytical skill of the chemist is taxed to discover it, would 
produce injurious effects on every creature that breathes. 
Our admiration and awe are increased when we consider 
the fact, that no chemical union or combination takes 
place between these two gases in the atmosphere, but they 
exist together merely as a mechanical mixture. A great 
reason has been found why this needs to be so, a reason 
which will be stated in its proper connection by and bye. 
But the mystery which strikes us dumb is, how these 
indispensable proportions are preserved. If a chemical 
union took place, then we would imagine that we under- 
stood it. But what determines those proportions in a 
mere mechanical mixture ? This is something that we 
know nothing about. We can perceive or imagine no 



118 

necessity. We are shut up to faith that these proportions 
will be maintained. 

The second illustration is this: The earth is not a per- 
fect sphere, but its equatorial diameter is 26.48 miles 
greater than its polar diameter. This excess of matter at 
the equator is the effect of the centrifugal force that is 
developed by the revolution of the earth on its axis. This 
centrifugal force sustains over all the globe a spherical 
crescent. The points of this crescent are at the poles. 
From these it gradually incrt^ases in thickness, until at the 
equator it reaches around the whole circle of the globe the 
depth of 13.24 miles. That portion of the earth's surface 
which is now solid, having assumed this general form 
w^hen in a fluid state, might possible retain this form, al- 
though some change had taken place in the forces by 
which it w^as originally determined. This, however, could 
not be the case with the fluid portion. The surface of the 
ocean is held at this elevation at the equator by this cen- 
trifugal force. It stands everywhere at the height that is 
determined by the equilibrium of the two counteracting 
forces, namely, the attraction of the earth and the centri- 
fugal force developed by its revolution. A change of one 
minute in the period of the earth's rotation, or in the 
length of the day, w^ould produce a change of 196 feet in 
relative heights of the ocean at the equator and at the poles. 
Should the day become shortened by this amount, a wave 
would leave the equator on all sides of the earth and flow 
towards the poles, sufficient to produce this change. 

But we may sleep in peace, and go about our daily avoca- 
tions undisturbed. Eternal faithfulness knows no relax- 
ation. Unhindered motion continues uniform forever. 
It is certain that since geologic time began, the relative 
elevations of land and water on the surface of the globe 
have not suffered any changes other than those of a local 
character, and referable to local causes. Even these 
changes have proceeded so gradually as to have become 
sensible only after long periods of time. There have been 
no alterations of a general nature, such as would indicate 
a sensible change in the rate of the earth's rotation. 

Thus mechanical science, using the term in its largest 
signification, as the science of force, shows us to be envi- 



119 

roned with truth; and, moreover, it habituates us to the 
continual association with truth, in the multiphed forms 
of its physical expression. In all these forms we have to 
deal with it continually. The influence of this environ- 
ment of truth has already been largely felt, although as 
yet attention has been but little directed to it. Men have 
been mostly unconscious of its influence. This has been 
silently but none the less powerfully exerted. From the 
education that will, directly and indirectly, be afforded by 
mechanical science, it must result, that mankind gene- 
rally will come to be more conscious of the manifestations 
of truth by which they are surrounded. The all- pervading 
presence of the Deity will come to be more generally felt, 
and will exert more and more its legitimate iDfluence on 
human character, The ultimate extent of this influence 
will undoubtedly be greater and more beneficent than we 
are at present able to imagine. 

In an earlier paper allusion has already been made to 
the relation that tlie creation bears to us as our educator. 
Attention was there called to what was termed the min- 
istry of force. ^\'e have now been considering a higher 
form of this educational influence, which the physical 
creation is adapted, and was evidently intended, to exert 
on the character of man, and which we may term the 
ministry of truth. 

The observer of nature has the fact impressed upon 
his mind, more and more deeply, that the prinjary law 
of the universe is truth— uniformity of action, directed 
by love. He learns also the only way in which a moral 
being, endowed with a free will can come to be in har- 
mony with this universal law of truth. This must be 
established, also, as the law of his own voluntary activity, 
by the perfect development of its motive; so that it 
becomes the only manner in which it is possible for his 
volition to act. The necessity for this standard of truth 
in his own being is not at all affected by the fact, that he 
finds it too high, not only for his attainment, but even 
for his comprehension. The attainment of it is clearly the 
only way in which truth in human beings can be made to 
confoi-m to truth as set before us in the physical creation. 

This ministry of truth can, however, exert but a feeble 



120 

influence upon the spiritual nature of man, compared with 
the mighty benefit that should be received from it, so long 
as physical truth continues to be falsely apprehended. 
Philosophers consider it scientific to exclude the Creator 
from his works. Metaphysicians teach that the miad is 
composed of separate and unrelated faculties ; and the 
mental activity by which the moral quality in nature can 
be recognized we are absolutely forbidden to exercise for 
this purpose. 

In all systems of education, a wide distinction is made 
between physical and moral truth, as being essentially 
different, and apprehended by us through different facul- 
ties or senses. We are taught that physical truth relates 
to things, and is apprehended by us fully and completely 
by the exercise of our intellectual faculties ; while moral 
truth relates to moi'al beings, and is apprehended by us 
through our moral sense. We are taught that, by the 
employment of our purely intellectual powers, we com- 
prehend physical science, in all its departments ; and with 
this science moral truth and moral sentiments, and the 
emotional nature, have nothing whatever to do. We are 
taught that between the laws of the physical universe and 
the conduct of moral beings, as between the mental facul- 
ties by which the former are apprehended, and the moral 
sentiments that direct the latter, there exists absolutely 
no relation. By most persons this would be laid down as 
an axiom, too obvious for discussion, needing only to be 
stated. To this height of absurdity have we been brought 
by a false system of education. 

All this elaborate artificial c^lassification has already 
been shown to be wholly imaginary : as much the idle 
creation of the mind in its unguided activity as is any 
system of idolatry. Here we find mankind lost in a 
morass of falsehood, out of which nothiog can extricate 
us, except the recognition of the absolute unity of truth 
in its physical and its spiritual forms of manifestation, 
and also of the unity of the human spirit by which this 
truth is to be apprehended. 

Science would shut us up to the contemplation of law; 
the highest conception possible to be formed by what it 
terms the intellect; the imaginary God of this imaginary 



121 

member or organ of the human spirit. But the considera- 
tions which have been presented in this paper leave no room 
for doubt that the spiritual element is the fundamental 
element in physical truth, and that the idea of physical 
truth that does not embrace this feature of it is incom- 
plete in a vital respect, and misleading in its influence. 
We are now able to affirm that every physical phenome- 
non is the act of an Infinite Being, performed with refer- 
ence, either direct or ultimate, to inferior and dependent 
beings. 

Physical truth is then properly defined as the conduct of 
God. It is the mode in which God deals with man, and 
works with reference to man. So, in its essential nature, 
as well as in the mode of its revelation to us, or apprehen- 
sion by us, it is not to be distinguished from the conduct of 
men, or the mode in which they deal with one another. 

The recognition of force in the universe, wuthout the 
recognition of the moral quality in every manifestation of 
force, as the act of a Being, is as if Ave should confine our 
attention to the mere exertions of force by men, without 
reference to the motives by which these were prompted 
and directed. The latter is something that the mind re- 
fuses to do. We know, our own consciousness assures us, 
that every act of njan is directed by a motive. Then our 
only possible conclusion is that every act of God is directed 
by a motive; and the imaginary distinction between phys- 
ical and moral science, and the modes of their apprehen- 
sion, vanishes away. 

Attention has already been called to the fact, that this 
distinction, which has been made fundamental in our sys- 
tems of thought, and the effect of which is so unfortunate, 
is in reality only a distinction between those truths which 
can be considered without reference to a Being, and those 
which cannot be separated from a Being in our thought. 
Ail phenomena which men could consider separately from 
the idea of a Being they have done. They have formed 
such partial conceptions of them as they could do when 
thus cut off from their source, and these concej^tions con- 
stitute physical science. 

The work of the reason, about which we liear continu- 
ally, is, in all the field of physical science, merely the activ- 



122 

ity of the mind in tracing relations, in distinguishing, 
combining and concluding, based on a partial ajDprehen- 
sion of the facts; when the facts of paramount signifi- 
cance are not present in consciousness. 

This partial philosophy receives but little check in those 
departments of science, in which the physical organs of 
perception are wholly relied upon, in which observation 
terminates on material forms, and in which it is possible 
for the thought of spiritual realities to be avoided. But 
mechanical science, which brings us into immediate contact 
with the omnipresent reality of force, and exhibits to us 
immediately the underhiug and primary element of truth, 
contains a power that aids us materially in the discern- 
ment of all spiritual realities. 

In a former paper we have considered the unity of the 
human spirit. Our present discussion enables us to affirm 
the unity of truth. There is only one kind of truth, as 
there is only one spirit in man to apprehend it. Truth in 
the physical creation is the conduct of God. Science is the 
knowledge of the conduct of God. Truth in man is con- 
duct like the conduct of God. All truth involves spiritual 
being as an essential element of the conception, and re- 
quires for its correct apprehension the exercise by the 
human spirit of every form of its activity. 



123 



THE PERCEPTION OF SPIRITUAL 
REALITIES BY RECOGNITION. 



God iu nature is the supreme fact of science. Then, of 
course, He ought to be so regarded. But He is not gen- 
erally so regarded. There must be a reason for this re- 
fusal, and a reason that, when we come to perceive it, will 
be found fuUy adequate to account for the fact. This phe- 
nomenon, hke aU others, must have its complete explana- 
tion. It is only necessary that this explanation shaU be 
pointed out. This will be attempted in this and the suc- 
ceeding papers. 

The real cause of this phenomenon seems to lie in the 
mode of revelation, by which the knowledge of all spiritual 
realities is conveyed to us. It has been shown already 
respecting force, that this first spiritual reality is perceived 
by recognition. ^Ve become aware of the existence of 
force only as we recognize it. Through similarity of effects 
produced, we recognize force as the act of a being; an act 
similar to efforts which we are conscious of having made 
ourselves. It seemed obvious that a being who was not 
himself capable of exerting force could not form any idea 
of force. It is not necessary to repeat here the exposition 
of tliis undoubted fact. 

We now note that the other spiritual realities, of truth, 
love and beauty, are revealed to our minds in the same 
way, or by recognition. Like force, they are of a nature 
incapable of being apprehended through our physical 
organs of perception. Still, like force again, they are re- 
vealed to us in some way. In some way, and in some de- 
gree, we certainly become aware of their existence. How 
do we come to have such cognitions ( We obtain them 
in a manner similar to that in which we obtain our knowl- 
edge of force. Through similarity of manifestation, in 
outward act, or visible or audible expression, we recognize 
that which we are conscious of experiencing oui-selves. 

This is the only way in which such conceptions can be 
formed, in which the images of truth, or love, or beauty 
can be brought into consciousness. We recognize that 



J 



124 

which is Hke to our conscious selves. In addition to this, 
we also recognize chat which is hke to our ideal; that is, 
w^hich is like in kind, only transcending in degree, that of 
which w^e are capable ourselves. 

As a being incapable of exerting furce can form no con- 
ception of force, so a being incapable of truth or love can 
form no conception of truth or love. Any expression or 
manifestation of these realities in other beings cannot sug- 
gest any corresponding sensations to him. He has no ex- 
perience that would enable him to recognize them. They 
revive no images in his consciousness. The same is true, 
also, of beauty; although we cannot well consider the case 
of beauty until we shall have seen its true nature, and 
the identity of physical with spiritual beauty, which will 
form the subject of a later paper. 

This ixiode of perception of spiritual realities is not 
essentially different from that of the perception of objects 
of sense. In both perceptions alike an image is formed 
in consciousness. In the one case this image is like some 
external object. In the other case it is like some previous 
sensation. In each case it is only the image formed in 
consciousness that is contemplated, and that is referred by 
us to the object, or to the being. For illustration, we 
attribute whiteness to an object and purity to a soul by 
mental processes similar to each other, and which are 
founded upon images that in the two cases alike we have 
formed in consciousness. 

The identity of the mental operations in these two cases 
ought to be made entirely clear. In physical perception 
the likeness formed in consciousness always stands to us 
in place of the reality. The purpose of all care in obser- 
vation is to form this likeness correctly, and all errors 
arise from the failure to do so. Every sense is often 
called into exercise to verify the correct image in con- 
sciousness. 

So, precisely, we observe the conduct of other beings, 
and we form images or conceptions of the motives that 
have actuated them to such conduct, or of the sentiments 
or feelings that are manifested by it. These images or 
conceptions we can form in only one possible way. We 
recognize the fact that by similar conduct we sliould our- 



125 

selves manifest or express such motives or sentiments or 
feelings. The images of them are revived in conscious- 
ness, and vre attribute or refer these motives or senti- 
ments or feehngs to the person whose conduct we observe. 
This accounts for the fact, that ordinarily it is not possible 
for men to conceive of other men as being actuated to any 
particular conduct by motives different from those that 
they are conscious would impel themselves to the same 
conduct. 

Another result follows from this mode of spiritual per- 
ception. In advance of any conduct observed, it is the 
spontaneous impulse of the mind to perceive in every 
other mind the reflection of its own conscious self. We 
naturally refer the images of sensations and emotions that 
we form in consciousness, to other minds, precisely as we 
do to our own. Thus we intuitiveh* expect from others 
the same conduct, or outward expression of the spiritual 
state, that would be natural to ourselves. 

Among spiritual beings in their normal condition, and 
for such beings this mode of perception of spiritual reah- 
ties was evidently designed, this expectation respecting 
the conduct of each other could never be disappointed. 
The conduct would invariably manifest the existence of 
love, and consequently of truth, in every one in equal de- 
gree, and complete harmony and sympathy would be the 
necessary result . 

But among men not only are the realities of truth and 
love developed in very different degrees, and these degrees 
at the best limited ; but, moreover, each one of these has 
its corresponding opposite, in falsehood and hatred, and 
these oppooites are also developed among men in endless 
diversity of degree. These two classes of opposites, in 
their various combinations, constitute the endless variety 
of human character. 

Under these abnormal conditions the spontaneous incli- 
nation still exists in each individual, to see in others only 
the reflection of his own conscious nature ; to attribute to 
others the motives and sentiments of which alone he is 
able to form the images in his consciousness, and to rec- 
oncile all conduct observed with such motives and feelings. 

This tendency, which is now a mistaken one, becomes 



126 

in some degree corrected by experience, in proportion as 
the judicial spirit is possessed. It is only by the exercise 
of this spirit that we are able to attribute conduct that is 
of a character more elevated than we ourselves are capable 
of to motives that we cannot comprehend or form images 
of in our own consciousness. 

It is obvious that the want of the normal spiritual 
realities of truth and love, and still more the possession of 
tlieir opposites, must of necessity render the individual in- 
sensible to the existence of the former in other beings. 
He cannot recognize them. He cannot form images of 
them in consciousness. He cannot perceive their exist- 
ence, in the only possible mode of such perception. For 
him they have no existence. He is necessarily dead to 
them. This affords the explanation of the fact, that has 
already been stated, that like can be revealed only to like, 
beauty to beauty, truth to truth, love to love. 

The subject of ideals of truth and love, and conse- 
quently, as we shall see hereafter, of beauty, is an inter- 
esting and an important one. Ideals of these realities are 
images of them that are formed in consciousness more or 
less vaguely, because in degree they transcend our own ex- 
perience, and so exceed our power to form images of them 
distinctly. It is to be observed, that our power to form 
these ideals, or indistinct images of degrees of truth and 
love that transcend our own experience, increases with 
each increase of our conscious possession of these realities, 
or, in other words, of our ability to form distinct images 
of them. The higher the actual attainment, the higher 
becomes the ideal. 

This is in accordance with what is to be observed 
universally. In looking at any objects of sense, for ex- 
ample, the ignorant man is quite incapable of realizing 
that there is anything before him that he cannot see. To 
the instructed mind, on the contrary, just in proportion 
to the depth of its own real insight will be its further ap- 
prehension of the existence of that which is beyond its 
power to discern. So precisely in the case of these 
spiritual realities. The greater the degree in which these 
are really possessed, the more capable the spirit becomes 
of realizing the facts, of their infinite nature, and of the 



127 

limited degree in which it is itself able to form distinct 
images of them, or to become distinctly conscious of their 
existence. 

When we shall come to consider the combined manifes- 
tation of all spiritual realities m their harmony, in beauty, 
the occasion will present itself for viewing this general 
subject of spiritual recognition somewhat more in detail. 
The observations already made seem to be sumcient to 
show this recognition to be the necessary mode of the 
revelation of these reahties. 



128 



THE REVELATION OF GOD. 



In the preceding paper a brief exposition was made of 
the mode in which all spiritual realities are revealed to 
man. It would seem to follow, necessaril}^, that the 
supreme spiritual reality, the Infinite Being, in whom force, 
truth, love and beauty inhere, from whom these proceed, 
of whom they are the manifestatioi], can himself be re- 
vealed to us only in the same way, or, by recognition, as 
our ultimate and adored ideal. The importance of this 
subject, and the radical error underlying the view of it 
that is commonly held, and which has become fixed by 
our education, demand for it, however, a separate and full 
discussion. It is undoubtedly necessary that the applica- 
tion of this law, of spiritual perception by recognition, to 
the revelation of God, should be distinctly shown. 

When, in another stage of being, our eyes shall be 
opened, or our power of spiritual recognition shall be en- 
larged, the overwhelming fact will burst upon us, that God 
had been before us every instant of our existence, and had 
been revealed in every possible way; that all things had 
combined to show tlie supreme truth of his presence; and 
that, while the few had faintly and dimly realized the en- 
rapturing revelation, the mass of mankind, through 
inability to recognize infinite and universal love, had been 
stone blind to it all. Amazement will fill the soul, as it 
recalls, in every activity of nature, the ceaseless revelation 
of God. 

The mistaken views and the confusion of thought that 
prevail on this subject, of our cognition of the being of 
God, have their roots in the artificial imaginary divisions 
of the human spirit, and the arbitrary allotment of sepa- 
rate functions to its different supposed organs. Thus it is 
assumed that the emotional nature has no perceptive 
power. It is taken as an axiom, that I cannot love, ex- 
cept as first I have an intellectual apprehension of the 
being that I am to love. The fact that love only can re- 
cognize love, and that it is through such recognition that 
the spirit in its unity obtains its only knowledge of the ex- 



129 

istence of this principle, or emotion, or motive to action, 
in another spirit, is a fact that has not itself been generally 
recognized. Hence this confusion. 

The first step towards a right understanding oK this im 
portant matter must be to disabuse our minds of the idea 
that the being of God is, or can be made, in any degree the 
subject of our intellectual apprehension. This proposition 
will of course seem a very strange one to the reader who 
assumes our intellectual apprehension to be our only mode 
of apprehension. The error lies in this very assumption, 
the unfounded nature of which I shall endeavor to show. 

A disposition still exists among theologians, although 
less strongly marked than it has formerly been, to exalt 
the reason, and in some vague way to rely upon it as a 
source of spiritual knowledge. In this theologians have 
only followed the prevailing philosophy. They have per- 
severingly tried to find in the reason the means of reaching 
the unseen, of attaining a knowledge of what has been 
called the .supernatural. In this they have repeated the 
folly of the builders of Babel, apparently comprehending 
as little as they the nature of the structure that shall 
' ' reach unto heaven. " Mechanical science has made clear 
the futility of all such efforts. It shows us that the mental 
processes, which men call the reason, do not afford the 
means of arriving at any truth, except in the region of 
pure mathematics ; that all realities, both those of a 
physical and those of a spiritual nature, are revealed to us 
in other ways. It shows us still more than thig, namely, 
that respecting all realities of a physical nature, our 
reasoning needs to have its errors corrected by observation 
at every step. Now the speculative mind loves to get far 
away from these physical fields, into regions where it is 
secure from these tests of observation. But the analogies 
of mechanical science follow it there. There is no escape 
from the searching question : If in things with which we 
are most familiar, and where the truth is well established, 
it is not possible for the mind to advance one step without 
the certainty of falling into error, what confidence is it 
possible for us, as reasonable beings, to put in speculations, 
where our vagaries cannot be corrected ? In these highest 
departments of truth also it is evident that we must seek 



130 

for, and recognize, and submit to, the guidance of revela- 
tion, if we would have our belief here rested on the same 
secure foundation, on which we have rested our belief of 
physical truth. The mode of revelation of the highest 
spiritual truth becomes, then, the subject of supreme 
interest. 

It occurs at once to one educated in the prevailing 
philosophy, and whose thought is bounded by its formulas, 
who cannot receive into his mind the truth of the exclu- 
sive perceptive power of love in its own province, to ask : 
"How can I love God, unless I first have a belief in his 
being, which belief I arrive at by the exercise of my reason 
or intelligence ? " This question appears unanswerable to 
those who have been educated to regard love as a mere 
sentiment, and to rely on what they call their intellectual 
faculties as the only means of knowledge. According to 
this philosophy, the knowledge must exist first, obtained 
in some other way, before the sentiment can have any 
object for its exercise. 

We observe that this question assumes belief in the 
being of God to be one thing, and love for him to be quite 
another and a subsequent thing. Such a conception of the 
subject is apparently fortified by the fact, that the exist- 
ence of God is confessed by very many persons, who yet 
profess to feel little or no regard for him. The answer to 
this question is, that the imaginary being, of whom men 
can form an intellectual idea, is not God. The under- 
standing leads men astray here as completely as we have 
seen it to do in the search after physical truth. The God 
of the understanding is the work of men's imagination. 
He is not their Creator, but their creature. They have 
created him, and have made him a being like themselves, 
and so quite within their comprehension ; only greater 
than they, just as the forces, manifested in nature are 
greater than those which they can exert. It is evident on 
reflection that the mental process by which this imaginary 
Deity is formed is not to be distinguished fiom the process 
by which men create idols, and attribute their own 
qualities to them. The utmost that our God -makers do, 
or can do, is to select their own good qualities or ideals, or 
those which they believe to be such, and in which belief 



1 



131 

they are always in a greater or lesser degree mistaken, 
and to invest theii' handiwork with these. Each pei*son 
has his own ideal, and so makes his own God. about whom 
his conceptions are generally pretty definite. In the study 
of all things in natm-e we are directly lost in mysteries. 
We may, perhaps, make as much progress towards a com- 
plete understanding of common objects of sense, as a 
miner makes towards leaching the centre of the earth. 
But when we approach the infinite mystery of the being 
of God, we are content to create in our imaginations a 
being adequate to make and to do what we observe to be 
made and done, and to say: "this is Grod.'* This is the 
work of what we call the intellect, by which we mean 
here the imagination. As if conscious, however, of the 
imposition, we are inspired by this imaginaiy deity to no 
act of worship, or f eehng of love, or exercise of faith. We 
recognize no personal relation between ourselves and our 
handiwork. 

A chief cause of our error here is to be found in the in- 
fluence of human analogies, which when pressed too far 
ai*e always misleading. We observe concerning our feUow- 
beings. that in order that we shall love them, we must first 
obtain through our senses evidence of their existence. We 
form images of them in our consciousness, which images 
are determined by the reahty before us, and with which 
images we then proceed to associate conduct observed, and 
sentiments and feehngs, which we attribute to them, and 
which are limited by our own. Thus we natui*aUy get a 
corresponding idea respecting our knowledge of God, that 
we must fij-st form an image of God in our minds in some 
way, and afterwards come to love him. It is necessary 
that we shaU become completelv freed from the influence 
of these misleadiDg analogies. Then when we shall come 
to look for the process of. fii-st, the intellectual apprehen- 
sion of God, and, second, the awakening of the feeling of 
love for the Being that has thus been inteUectuaUy appre- 
hended, we shaU find that there is no such process: but that 
om' only possible apprehension of God that is true, in the 
degree that we ai-e able to form it, is that apprehension that 
is formed by the recognition of love alone. 

Science afl^i-ms God to be the unknowable and the un- 



132 

thinkable. In this declaration science is right. Its error 
lies in paying no regard to the real mode of spiritual per- 
ception, by which the revelation of God is in fact made to 
us, and which is the only possible mode of such revelation. 
But this conclusion of science that the human intellect is 
incapable of arriving at any knowledge of God is not new. 
It was anticipated long ago. "Who hath known the 
mind of the Lord?" "Canst thou by searching find out 
God ?" "The lieavens are higher than the earth, so are my 
ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your 
thoughts.'' The living force of this language, and of other 
expressions of similar import in the Bible, contrasts in a 
striking manner with the lifeless formulas of philosophic 
construction. The contrast is, indeed, no greater between 
the language, than it is between the reality, of the two 
cases. The first marks the hopeless end of philosophic 
thought. The second is the sublime beginning of revela- 
tion. 

But while ignorant of the true mode of this revelation, 
we cry: "If God be, indeed, the unknowable and the un- 
thinkable, then he has not everywhere revealed himself to 
us." " Then it is not true that our whole being, with all its 
powers, has been adapted to the supreme purpose of be- 
holding him." Peace, troubled soul ! How should the in- 
finite be revealed to the finite ? A very slight exercise of 
the understanding would seem sufficient to show how 
futile the search after God must be, that is conducted 
within the limits of human processes of thought. If man 
were only a reasoning machine, then mere uniformity of 
action expressed as law would be his ultimate conception. 
Then it is cetain that not God alone, but all spiritual 
realities, would be hidden from him. For him they would 
have no significance. He would be without power to recog- 
nize their existence. 

In accordance with the law of all spiritual perception, 
and, indeed, in accordance with the law of perception uni- 
versally, we perceive the being of God only through the 
spontaneous and necessary recognition of him by the spirit 
in its activity of love. As all the manifestations of God, 
in the modes of force and truth and beauty, have their 
unity in love, as love is the essence of the divine nature, 



133 

and the motive to all divine conduct, so also the affections 
constitute the whole spiritual nature of man, and the 
motive to all his activity. If these are in their normal 
state, then they are in entire harmony with the nature of 
God, and the spirit necessarily recognizes his universal 
being and presence. If the spiritual nature of man is 
not so in entire harmony with the divine nature, then it 
can recognize God only in degree, in such degree as it is 
able to form the image or ideal of him. If it does not 
spontaneously form such image or ideal in any degree, 
then it must be dead to his existence. 

For the correct apprehension of this, the only possible 
mode of the divine revelation, it is necessary at first that 
we should consider man, not as in fact he is, but as he 
would be in his normal state ; a state in which universal 
love is the ceaseless animating force, in which every 
thought is suggested by love, and every act is the expres- 
sion of love. In this normal state, man would necessarily 
be conscious of his environment of universal love, and this 
is God. 

The being and the love of God are convertible terms. 
This was true of the divine man. It would also be true of 
man universally in his normal state, which we are now 
supposing. In this state, love in man would differ from 
love in God only in degree, according to the capacity of 
his nature, love in God being infinite. In this normal 
state, man would receive the revelation of God, in becom- 
ing conscious of the universal reciproicty to his own love. 
He forms no conception. He only loves. Every other 
being is equally the object of his love. He is conscious of 
love in return from every other being. Above all he is 
conscious of an environing Being, who is infinite love. 
The latter recognition becomes necessary from the fact 
that in this state man has been made in the spiritual 
image of God, and must recognize his own likeness or 
ideal. He feels the spontaneous and supreme impulse to 
love, and also the corresponding longing for love. In the 
complete satisfying of this longing he recognizes infinite 
love, and becomes aware of the harmony of which he 
forms a part. The conscious particular recognizes its 
universal. 



134 

In this normal state, the spirit must see God, precisely 
as the open eye must see objects in nature, or as the mind 
must recoi^nize familiar truths, and that for the same 
reason, namely, that this recognition, and consequent 
communion and joy, are the very purposes for which 
man's spiritual nature, with its power of perception, was 
given to him, the end to which it was especially adapted 
and which it was evidently intended to serve. 

God having been first revealed in the spirit, the universe 
is then seen to be the manifestation of his love, and be- 
comes animate with his presence. Everything then ap- 
pears in its true character, as a mode of the endlessly 
varied activity of infinite love ; and the spirit rejoices, 
with rapture unspeakable, as a being receiving, and 
responding to, and so communing in, that love. 

This recognition of the soul is, then, the mode of the 
revelation of God. But to us, in our abnormal state, this 
revelation is, of necessity, dim and obscure, even at the 
best. The direct and immediate recognition of God by 
the soul is feeble, on account of the feeble degree in which 
universal love is developed in our natures. The external 
perception of his presence is necessarily imperfect in the 
same degree, for we can see, or can recognize without, 
only those spiritual realities that we have already felt 
within. Among men, therefore, the revelation of God, 
or the spontaneous recognition of God in the soul, must 
be a matter of degree, according to the development in 
this respect of each spiritual being. In this degree, and 
in this degree only, every physical sense becomes a me- 
dium, through which the sympathizing spirit recognizes its 
own image or ideal, and so in part beholds the activity of 
universal love. 

It should be observed that, while to man in his 
normal state the recognition of God must be complete up 
to the full capacity of his nature, still this recognition can 
never become complete, in anything like the absolute sense 
of that term. The true conception of perfect beings must 
doubtless be that of endless growth, with always an ador- 
ing consciousness of depths unfathomed of love in God. 

The idea is a prevalent one, that love to God may result 
as an effect or consequence of the purely intellectual study 



135 

of his works. This is the same error that has already been 
exposed, only modified in its mode of statement. Strange 
as it may at first seem, the fact is, that where love to God, 
or, correctly speaking, that love by the spontaneous 
activity of which God is recognized or revealed to us, does 
not already exist, in some degree at least, the effect of the 
study of his works is invariably to hide him more and 
more from us.' 

On reflection, the necessity for this result becomes ap- 
parent, and it affords a full demonstration of the correct- 
ness of the view of spiritual revelation that is here taken. 
In the case supposed there exists, if not a positive 
antagonism, at least a complete want of sympathy or 
harmony, between the soul and God; and therefore the 
spirit cannot perceive him, has no power to recognize his 
existence. 

In its merely intellectual activity the spirit of man 
works mechanically. This mechanism itself feels no 
interest, forms no purpose, provides no impulse. It works 
in any direction indifferently, as impelled and guided by 
the emotional nature, by the J, by love or hate, in the 
degree of its development, either to build or to destroy. 
Even in the study of nature for the very purpose of find- 
ing evidences of design requiring a designer, when the 
thought is arrested here, the understanding itself is as in- 
different as is the eye to the shape of an image that is 
formed within it, or the hand to the purpose for which 
its muscular power is being exerted. 

Thus it is clearly shown that the recognition of the being 
of God does not wait upon, or in any manner depend upon, 
the manifestation of God to our senses. On the contrary, 
this recognition must have been made by the spirit 
already, in the only possible way, namely, by the spon- 
taneous action of similar love existing in the soul, respond- 
ing to its universal environment of divine love, in order 
that the sensible expressions of the love of God shall be 
discerned at all. Otherwise the spirit is dead to them all. 

This is a fact of ordinary experience. That all the com- 
mon and familiar operations of nature are in reality the 
manifestations of the infinite love of God, in its ceaseless 
activity, is an idea that no man, whose nature is not, at 



136 

least in some degree, in harraony with the divine nature, 
is able to entertain for an instant. That all force is the per- 
sonal act of the omnipresent God, extending not only to 
the most common and minute things, but, moreover, in 
everything extending to where minuteness becomes lost in 
infinity, this to such a mind is foolishness. A remarkable 
feature of the case appears in the fact, to which reference 
has already been made, that the unvarymg uniformity of 
all natural operations, that very characteristic of them 
which is fundamental in our idea of truth in moral beings, 
that is the necessary expression of eternal faithfulness, is 
the feature that operates most effectually to hide God 
from the sight of men. They could recognize superior 
power in exceptional phenomena; but the changeless love 
that shines in the life-giving sun, this they caunot see. 
The very constancy of the beneficent conduct of God thus 
absolutely forms a barrier to his recognition. 

Again, wherever God has not already been spiritually 
recognized, the perfection manifested in every part of the 
creation, and the harmony that pervades all natural opera- 
tions, produce on the mind the same blinding effect. 
While the illumined spirit, united with God in the har- 
mony of universal love, rejoices in the manifest glory of 
the Infinite Father, the merely philosophic mind, accord- 
ing to the present limited use of this term, or the mind 
that is shut up to merely intellectual processes, sees only 
the ordinary and regular operations of nature. With 
this absolutely impersonal, and therefore meaningless 
expression what is now called the philosophic mind rests 
quite satisfied. Beyond this it feels no interest, and there 
fore it can discover nothing. 

If, then, we can only become freed from the influence 
of a false education, which has itself been directed by blind 
philosophy, we shall be able to perceive clearly enough, 
that our belief in, or knowledge of, the true and living 
God cannot precede, but must wholly consist in, the 
spiritual recognition of the soul in love; and that the effect 
of this sympathetic union with God is, that the spirit 
becomes illuminated to see that which was before invisible, 
to which it had been completely insensible, and that now, 
under the impulse of normally awakened affections, the 



13Y 

thought can no longer stop nor be arrested until it has 
penetrated into the universal presence of God, and con- 
templates in all things the working of his infinite love. 

The truth of the view that has been here presented is 
shown in its power to clear away the cloud of difficulties 
with which this subject has been darkened, and which 
have produced a disastrous effect on many minds that 
have been earnestly seeking for the light. 

It has been taught, and generally assumed, that the 
God of nature, or God as revealed in nature, is a Being 
who is intellectually apprehended by us. We are indebted 
for this idea to w^hat is known as the science of Natural 
Theology. Now, our argument has certainly advanced 
far enough to expose the absurd falsity of such an idea. 
The God of nature is certainly identical with the God of 
grace. 

Then the difficulty has always been felt to be a serious 
one of connecting this supposed God of nature, or God as 
intellectually apprehended, with the infinitely loving, 
merciful, forgiving Father who is revealed in the Bible. 
A chasm has seemed to separate the two. And well it 
may have done. For the supposed God so intellectually 
apprehended has no existence. This is another of the 
fictions of the human mind. There is no such Being. 
The true and living God is not intellectually apprehended. 
It suits human pride to assume that the intellect of man 
must have something to do with our perception of God; 
but human pride is itself the great obstacle to this per- 
ception. All truth must be sought in the deepest humil- 
ity. This is preeminently the case with the highest truth 
of all. It is God dwelling in us, actually present in our 
consciousness, whom we recognize. The Apostle John 
expressed the truth exactly when he said: "He that 
loveth not knowth not God, for God is love." 

The spontaneous activity of the spirit in love is to be 
observed in little children. All that the conscious spirit 
does, before it can reflect or understand, and prior to any 
experience, is to love and trust. The latter act rests upon 
the assumption of universal love like its own. Manifesta- 
tions of these feelings of love and trust constitute the 
child's first signs of recognition. That love and trust are 



138 

natural and intuitive is shown in the universal fact, that 
the child is delighted by manifestations of responsive love, 
and is grieved by the want of them. 

We are inspired with new admiration when we observe 
that, as it is the most important of all things that we 
should have this knowledge of God, or this power to re- 
cognize him, so the activity of the spirit in love, by which 
activity, just in the degree that it assumes a universal 
form, God becomes spontaneously recognized, is the earli- 
est of all spiritual activities to be developed and exercised ; 
and also that all the endearing relations of life, symbols of 
the far closer relation of the soul to God, as these relations 
appear in succession from the opening to the close of our 
earthly existence, unsealing successive fountains of happi- 
ness, are adapted and are evidently intended to preserve 
the love and trust of infancy unblighted. Here we re- 
cognize the meaning of the command of the Christ, that 
we must become as little children. We see it to be merely 
the expression of a command that exists in the nature of 
things. Care and trust are the reciprocal expressions of 
the same love, on the parts, respectively, of protecting and 
of dependent beings. The former expression actually does 
exist, and the latter is possible to exist, between God and 
man in infinite degree. 

In concluding these observations on the revelation of 
God, attention is called to the fact that this revelation, like 
the revelations of inferior truths, is of a nature adapted to 
bring to the spirit receiving it the full and entire convic- 
tion of its truth. The spirit rests in this sure belief. This 
contrast is to be noted between this revelation and all 
superstitious beliefs, that when the revelation of God has 
been received in this manner, then the more comprehen- 
sive the knowledge, and the more profound the intelli- 
gence, the more certain becomes the truth of the revela- 
tion. 

It is further to be observed, that we can never rise above 
the analogies that are afforded by mechanical science. As 
in that science, so hei'e also, experiment is the only source 
of knowledge. Men can only idlv pretend to reason about 
that which they have not experimentally established. The 
personal relation of the soul of man with God is something 



139 

that can only be known experimentally. It is obviously 
impossible for the mind that has not received the knowl- 
edge of God by the recognition of his infinite and universal 
love to know anything about it. And for such a mind to 
deny the existence of God, to discuss the subject of his 
being at all, or to entertain any opinion whatever concern- 
ing it, or respecting the whole matter of the relation of 
man to God, is clearly just as absurd, as we have seen that 
it would be for one to reason about the existence of any 
objects which are not revealed to us through any process of 
reasoning, or, on the other hand, for one who knew only 
about objects that are revealed through the physical senses 
to express an opinion about the existence of abstract 
truths. 



140 

THE VERBAL REVELATION. 



We have now finished our brief and necessarily very 
general survey of the physical and spiritual modes of reve- 
lation. These modes have been seen to vary, as is ren- 
dered necessary by the varied nature of the truths 
revealed. We have observed that every bodily sense, and 
every mode of activity of the spirit, are called into exer- 
cise, to serve as media for the revelation to man of 
physical and spiritual truth, and that each one of these in 
its office, and the spirit in its unity, are adapted for the 
transmission and the reception or apprehension of every 
form of truth. This adaptation includes, of course, 
historical truth, which has not yet been considered. 

There remains an auxiliary to all these provisions for 
our reception of revelation in its varied forms, and that is 
the gift of language. This is the gift by which our spirits 
communicate with one another. It is, perhaps, rather to 
be regarded as a mode of communication than of revela- 
tion. 

Language has this supreme use, that it is adapted for 
the communication to man of truths of the highest conse- 
quence, which, being historical in their nature, could not 
be imparted to him in any other way, as well as of those 
truths, to the natural revelation of which we are, in our 
abnormal state, nearly or quite insensible. 

We have that which claims our acceptance as such 
verbal revelation. We have a book, which purports to be 
the actual employment, by the Giver of language himself, 
of this highest physical gift for its highest possible use. 
The question presents itself : Is this book to be accepted 
as true ? Written by men, as necessarily it must have 
been, did the Bible, nevertheless, emanate from the Infinite 
Mind, the source of all truth ? Are its words the words of 
God, or rather, in all its essential teachings, is it the word 
of God ? . For the determination of this question, our 
present subject suggests a line of inquiry that seems to be 
in its nature fundamental and searching. It suggests the 
question: Is this book in harmony with the physical reve- 
lation ? Is the God of nature also the God of the Bible ? 



141 

The God of nature is seen to be a Being of infinite, 
universal and changeless love. Having first been spirit- 
ually recognized, He is then seen to fill all things. These 
are then seen to have their supreme use as the universal 
manifestation to man of the being and nature of God. Is 
the same manifestation contained also in the Book ? 

When we approach this subject, the fact that first pre- 
sents itself is, that the Bible declares the existence of one 
God ; not of a divided sovereignty, nor of inferior divini- 
ties, but of one Jehovah. Mature declares this to be the 
truth. The unity and harmony everywhere observable 
forbid any other supposition. Science has been truly said 
to be the grave of polytheism. At the outset, we find this 
fundamental agreement to exist between the Bible and 
physical revelation. 

Again, the Bible declares God to be a spirit, whom no 
power has been given us to discern, admitting of no man- 
ner of similitude, of whom our spirits, in their form con- 
structing activity, can create no image; but with whom 
we have relations far more close than we are able to con- 
ceive, and with whom, moreover, our spirits may have im- 
mediate personal communion, the intimacy of which has 
no limit except that which is imposed by the imperfect 
nature of our love, or, in other words, by the limited de- 
gree of this form of our spiritual activity. 

On this precise point the corroboration afforded by 
Xature is necessarily in some degree negative, but it will 
be seen that it is hardly less conclusive on that account, 
nature assures us, first, that God is so completely hidden 
from us, and, second, that this fact does not afford the 
least reason for doubting His personal existence. His uni- 
versal presence, and our own personal relations with Him. 
The better we become acquainted with nature, the more 
distinctly we are made to see the extreme limitation of our 
perceptive powers. It is, of course, obvious that these do 
not extend to the direct perception of any form of spiritual 
being, which, nevertheless, we know to exist. But very 
far within this limitation, we find that our knowledge of 
the physical forms of being, while ample for all our needs 
and uses, is extremely superficial, that the reality of all 
material things is far beyond our sight. And yet we know 



I 



142 

this reality to exist. The tendency of all research is more 
and more to check human presumption, and to induce an 
humble and a reverent spirit, in view of the exceedingly 
narrow limits of our actual knowledge, and the infinity of 
even physical truth. 

With respect to the eternal self-existence and omni- 
presence of God, Xature and the Bible are in full accord. 
Both alike also represent God as a Being of infinite and 
unchangeable truth. This harmony has been already set 
forth in an earlier paper. 

Although many expressions in the Bible can be wrested, 
and have abundantly been wrested, by men to an opposite 
sense, still the totality of its teaching unquestionably rep- 
resents God to be a Being of universal and unchangeable 
lov^e. Indeed, this is taught and exhibited in the Bible in 
such a remarkable manner, that the mass of Christians, in 
contemplating these teachings and this exhibition, even 
while they strive to confine infinite love within the hmits 
of their comprehension, and while they cloud it by imput- 
ing to God the vindictiveness of their own dispositions, 
are still habituated to overlook, for the most part, the 
harmonious exhibitions of the same love by which they 
are surrounded. The beauty and the glory of the divine 
love, as revealed in the Bible, render them in a large 
degree blind to the necessarily equal beauty and glory of 
the same love, as revealed in nature. 

The foregoing points of agreement may be summed up 
in the pregnant statement, that the revelation of God 
made in the Bible is in every respect fully adequate to the 
revelation of Him that is made in His works. In these 
respects the Bible stands alone, in striking contrast with 
all other recorded thought. Xo other composition meets 
any of these demands, except so far as such compositions 
have obviously been derived from the Bible itself. 

It is next to be noted that, although the Bible was com- 
pleted long before the beginning of scientific hiquiry, still 
the discoveries of science have not rendered it obsolete. 
On the contrary, these discoveries have enabled the mean- 
ing and force of much of its language to be better under- 
stood. It is hardly possible at the present day to conceive 
the ignorance of physical truth, or the false conceptions 



143 

respecting physical phenomena, or the hmited range of 
thought concerning all this class of subjects, that existed 
universally during all the period in which the several 
books of the Bible were written. The form of the earth 
had not even become a subject of inquiry. Eespecting its 
size, curiosity did not anywhere extend beyond the small 
portion of it that was known. Its age was supposed, by 
the few who had any thought about it, to be measured by 
a few generations of men. The speculations of Pythag- 
oras were, apparently, without appreciable influence, and 
aside from these, the only conception respecting the earth 
that was held with any degree of distinctness was, that it 
formed the centre of all things, and that a solid firmament, 
in which the sun and moon and stars were set, revolved 
around it every day. The whole Bible was written under 
these infantile conditions, of mistaken conceptions, and 
extreme limitation of thought. 

Since that time, on the one hand we have learned the 
obscure rank of the earth, and, on the other hand, the 
thoughts of men have become enlarged, until human con- 
ceptions are lost in the infinities of space and time. But 
we have not outgrown the Bible. There appears to be a 
remarkable likeness between this Book and the nature of 
things, in this respect : The meaning that is conveyed to 
our minds by the Bible, in all its allusions to physical ob- 
jects or phenomena, expands just in the degree in which 
our conceptions of the phenomena expand. It seems as if 
both the description and the phenomena were limited to 
us in the same way, namely, by our capacity to compre- 
hend them. The unique character of the language of the 
Bible in this respect also becomes strikingly evident, when 
this Book is contrasted with any other writing. 

In addition to this remarkable character of its language, 
it is to be observed that the Bible contains only one dis- 
tinct trace of the ignorance of the ages in which it was 
written respecting physical phenomena. This is the ac- 
count of the sun and moon standing still at the command 
of Joshua. A candid examination of this account can 
leave no doubt that it ought to be regarded as a fable. 
There seems, however, little hope that this will be done by 
any Christian organization, at least at present ; since the 



144 

Protestant Church, which could see the revisers of the 
English version of the New Testament make short work 
with the legend of the angel of the pool, appears, equally 
with the Roman Church, to have set its heart on this 
equal or greater absurdity. 

Accounts of miracles are not by any means to be reject- 
ed. On the contrary, when the Bible is seen to be of 
divine origin, then it must be regarded in two aspects, 
first, as the revelation to man of divine truth, and, second, 
as the account of the discipline, by means of which men 
were made capable of receiving this revelation. Now it 
cannot fairly be questioned, that in both these respects 
miracles had their necessary use. No one can affirm, that 
miracles could nave been dispensed with, in the divine 
plan of imparting to the human race that truth, the ap- 
prehension and practical reception of which by man in- 
volved no less than a radical and complete change of his 
nature. It will be observed that all miracles were of a 
character adapted to one or the other, or to both, of these 
two offices. They served to impress the revelation of 
spiritual truth upon the minds of men, and they consti- 
tuted, at first, a chief means of the education, that has 
gradually, though as yet only partially, been enabling men 
to receive this revelation. The greatest of all miracles 
was involved in the very nature of the revelation itself. 

Thus the antecedent probability is wholly in favor of the 
truth of the miracles recorded in the Bible. We, there- 
fore, readily yield our assent to the overwhelming evi- 
dence presented in support of all the most important of 
these ; while belief in others, not so amply witnessed, but 
having the same general character and tendency, is also 
accorded without hesitation. In their abnormal condi- 
tion, men could not see the infinite manifestations of the 
divine presence and goodness, in the midst of which they 
live and move and have their being. So, for these great 
purposes, manifestations of this presence and goodness 
were given to them which they could see. This seems to 
be the reasonable philosophy of miracles. 

But the account that we are now cojisidering has no 
characteristic of a miracle. On the contrary, it presents 
a strong contrast to all miracles in this vital respect. It in- 



145 

volves an inconceivable waste of energy, a disproportion 
of means to end that language has no power to express. 
Now, the direct opposite of this is the uniform character- 
istic of miracles, and if it were not so no observer of the 
action of God in nature could recognize them as having 
been performed by Him. In no miracle is there ever shown 
the least prodigality. We may admit that God could be 
wasteful, but He never is. Waste is at variance with the 
uniform conduct of God in nature. In miracles results 
are often, and indeed generally made to follow from causes 
that to us seem insufficient; but the contrary j never. 

In this accouut, however, the earth is in effect said to 
have been arrested in its revolution about a whole day, in 
order that Israelites might be able to pursue their enemies, 
the Amorites, and to have been put in motion again after 
the slaughter of them was ended. Not only so, but, more- 
over, all this is related to have been done by a God who 
could have destroyed the Amorites with a breath, and 
after His actual destruction of them by hail-stones had 
been completed. 

The Eoman Church denounced the Copernican theory, 
and compelled Galileo, whether by torture or by threat of 
torture is unknown and is immaterial, to abjure this Iier- 
esy ; because this theory rendered necessary the cessation 
of the motion of the earth on its axis, in order that the 
sun should have stood still upon Gibeon, and the moon in 
the valley of Ajalon. The truth of the Copernican theory 
has been established. The impossibility of supposing the 
motion of the earth to have been arrested is confessed by 
everybody. Theologians now suppose that the assumed 
miracle consisted in the appearances and effect with re- 
spect to light, of the sun and moon standing still. This 
certainly proves one thing, namely, that scientific men do 
not have a monopoly of absurd suppositions in support of 
pet theories. This supposition does not help the matter 
much. It involves two things, namely, the putting out of 
the appearances of the sun and moon, where they were, 
and creating those appearances where they were not. 
Now, it is not possible for any mind that is able to form 
the least conception of what this account involves, in any 



1 



146 

way in which it can be regarded, to beheve in its truth for 
an instant. 

All solicitude on this subject ought, however, to be re- 
moved from the minds of believers in the divine authority 
of the Bible, by the remarkable declaration that is con- 
tained in this account itself. The account contains this 
sentence: "Is not this written in the book of Jasher ?" 
Theologians generally overlook this sentence. In their 
eagerness to believe in the account, as a statement of what 
really took place, they discuss it as if no such sentence was 
contained in it. Yet there it stands. And it solves the 
problem. It removes all difficulty. The book of Jasher 
is directly appealed to as the authority for the statement. 
What was the book of Jasher ? The Bible contains one 
other allusion to this book, and beyond these two refer- 
ences we do not know anything about it. Four hundred 
years after this event David lamented over Saul and Jon- 
athan. Preceding the record of this lamentation a 
verse is introduced relating that he bade them teach the 
children of Judah the use of the bow, and adding, in strik- 
ing similarity to the sentence now under consideration, 
" Behold, it is written in the book of Jasher." These two 
sentences are all that we know about this book. But they 
are enough. They declare, so clearly, ''that he may run 
that readeth it," that this story did not form any part of 
the contemporaneous record of the event, but that it was 
a fable interj)olated into the account certainly more than 
four hundred years afterwards. 

No reference to this supposed miracle is found in the 
New Testament. The absence of any allusion to it in 
the Psalms is itself almost conclusive evidence that this 
remarkably sublime description could not have existed 
when they were composed. The Old Testament contains 
two allusions to it — one, quite vague, in Isaiah, and one 
more definite in Habakkuk. But these prophets lived 
from 350 to 450 years after David. 

The interpolation of this fable into the original rec- 
ord is not only declared, it is also obvious on a careful 
reading of the passage. The narrative of the event is 
clearly finished before this story is introduced. Immedi- 
ately preceding it we read the statement of the actual 



147 

divine interposition, and of the overthrow and destruction 
of the Amorites by hailstones. This recital is evidently 
concluded, with the general summing up, "they were 
more which died with hailstones than they whom the 
children of Israel slew with the sword." Clearly this con- 
clusion could not have been arrived at until the final re- 
sults had been ascertained. After this, and in a manner 
completely disconnected, this fable is introduced, with the 
declaration of its origin. If the three verses that contain 
it be omitted, the account stands continuous and com- 
plete. 

It has seemed important to present what appears to be 
the clear truth of this matter, because the impossibility of 
accepting this account as anything but a fable, coupled, 
as it is, with the general refusal of theologians to admit 
any distinction between it and authentic accounts of mir- 
acles, produces a very bad effect indeed. These two things 
together operate strongly to lead multitudes of sincere 
minds to reject all accounts of miracles, and thus all belief 
in the inspiration of the Bible. Theologians who have 
seen the truth in this matter clearly enough have not 
deemed it judicious to declare it. No greater mistake, in 
this age of stubborn inquiry, could possibly be made. 
Moreover, in any candid consideration of the question of 
the inspired truth ot the Bible, the correct presentation of 
this prominent matter is a clear duty, and is not to be 
evaded. It should, however, be noted, that the real occa- 
sion for surprise is, not that or^e such trace of the igno- 
rance of the age, and of its dispo^ion to endo w with su- 
pernatural powers the heroes of its remote past, should 
have found its way into this record, but rather that this 
should be the only one. The fact that the Bible is not 
crowded with these fables, as other accounts of heroic 
ages are, is one that seems to admit of only a single ex- 
planation. 

It is to be observed, that in the Bible the subject of 
physical phenomena is not avoided, but on the contrary, 
and especially in the poetical portions, these phenomena are 
frequently dwelt upon, and that in language that is correct, 
and is of a character always so elevated, and often so 
sublime, as to stand in marked contrast with all other 



148 

compositions, even to the present day. I wish here to re- 
vert to the fact, and to dwell more particularly upon it, 
that the discoveries of science, and the consequent en- 
largement of the conceptions and comprehension of men, 
have been required, before the real meaning and force of 
much of this language in the Bible could, in any proper 
degree, be apprehended. Science thus compels us to de- 
clare respecting much of the language of the Bible, that 
it could not have had its real origin in the minds of men 

The fact is one that commands our attention, that the 
most exalted intellect can find no language so fit as that 
of the Bible, in which to express the emotions that are 
kindled by the contem [;lation of these overwhelming 
physical truths. This language has been found uniformly 
consistent with, and expressive of, the highest conceptions 
that men can form, respecting the physical creation, as 
well as respecting Grod as its Creator, and, in each of these 
respects, to be beyond all measure above that of any other 
composition. 

There is yet a deeper reason for the satisfaction that is 
derived from the language of the Bible, in its references 
to physical phenomena. The Bible is the only book in 
which these phenomena are referred directly to God, and 
are described as being His personal acts. All other books 
are written in phenomenal language. Apparently they 
must be so. We seem to be shut up to the philosophy of 
appearances, and to be under the necessity of describing 
all operations and events in nature, as if they were self- 
directed. We have, however, intuitive feelings that rebel 
against this necessity. These feelings have doubtless led 
to the fiction of nature and her works. The real satisfac- 
tion that is felt in reading the language of the Bible, in 
which God is himself presented to us as the everywhere 
present actor in physical phenomena, arises, undoubtedly, 
in a great degree, from our recognition of its truth in 
this respect. 

The preceding observations are sufficient to render ap- 
parent the singular agreement of the Bible with physical 
truth, and with the revelation of God in nature. We now 
pass to consider another phase of the general harmony be- 



149 

tween the Bible and truth as this is taught in nature, as 
well as in the human conscience. 

Mankind have not only progressed in knowledge since 
the Bible was written, they have also made an advance in 
humanity. The Israehtes represented fully the best de- 
velopment of the race in this respect in their day. But 
they were originally a semi-barbarous and cruel people. 
The lex talionis was their unwritten law, precisely as it 
was among the North American Indians. Revenge was 
their cardinal virtue. The amelioration of this law of 
vengeance was one object of their great lawgiver. 

It is startling to read, in the earliest writings of this 
people, the question recorded as asked by God himself, of 
the first man related to have been born into the world; a 
question that searches out the fundamental principles of 
human relations, and the meaning of which we are only 
now beginning to realize. Our wonder is increased when 
we read the command, that at the very first v/as given to 
the selfish and contentious Israelites, evidently not for 
themselves alone, but through them to the human race 
forever, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.'' And 
in order that no place should be left for doubt as to the 
meaning of these words "thy neighbor," that no excuse 
should be found for treating them as words of limitation, 
the commands were added: " Love ye therefore the stran- 
ger. " ' ' The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be as 
one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself; 
for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt." 

This command, addressed directly to the motive to all 
right action, the general and comprehensive command, 
out of which all particular commands, to govern the con- 
duct of men in all their relations and intercourse, proceed, 
as necessary corollaries, w^as thus given to men long be- 
fore they could feel or sympathize with its spirit. Many 
centuries were to pass before the great expounder and ex- 
emplar of this command should arise, to enforce and to 
illustrate it. And even then, after so long a time, how 
little advance in humanity had been made by men, com- 
pared with that which yet remained to be accomplished. 
Even since the advent of the Christ, the leaven has worked 
very slowly, so that it would be absurd to say that, at this 



150 

present day. the most Christian nations, as a whole, have 
made much progress towards the full obedience to the 
command. *' love ye the stranger as thyself." 

There remained, however, a height of spiritual beneficent 
activity above this, that was to be revealed by the Christ, 
in the fiuther command. ''Love your enemies." This is 
a natural command. By a natuml command is meant one 
that is inherent in the nature of things, and which spiri- 
tual beings, in their normal state, spontaneously and nec- 
essarily obey. TTith natural commands of a physical 
nature we are familiar. These are commands to use our 
various senses and organs for the purposes for which each 
one was given us. TTe obey these commands in seeing, 
hearing, walking, and so on without end. In like manner 
the command to universal love is a command that the 
spirit in its normal condition was formed to obey, pre- 
cisely as it was formed to see. Love is the response that 
such a spii^it makes to any antagonism, whatever may be 
the form of its expression ; or rather, it is the uniform 
mode of normal spiritual activity, that cannot be affected 
by external conditions. Obedience to this command to 
universal love, the expression of normal spiritual activity, 
was to be shown in the life and death of Him by whom the 
command was given. This manifestation of that nature 
to which this is a natural command remains an example 
to the human race forever. 

Xow eveiy one, in the depths of his consciousness, rec- 
ognizes the fact, that the command to universal love, 
given in the Bible, is the verbal expression of natiu-al law. 
It agrees with physical law, or the uniform conduct of 
God, which is the manifestation of his love to all creatures 
alike, to the just and the unjust, to the evil and the good. 
The Bible alone presents this harmony. We perceive 
that it must have been given to men by the same Being, 
from whom the natmal command to universal love has 
proceeded, and in whose conduct it is illustrated. This 
law needed to be declared to men. God only could declare 
it. Therefore the Book in which it is declared is the word 
of God. 

We come now to a still higher test respecting the divine 
origin of the Bible. This has been seen to declare the true 



L- 



151 

relation existing between man and man, and to reveal the 
motive that in their normal spiritual state would govern 
the conduct of men towards their fellow men. But if the 
Bible be from God it must also declare the relation be- 
tween man and Grod. Here we encounter evidence of the 
divine origin of the Bible that is of a singularly impressive 
character. We have seen that the Bible is in harmony 
with nature in declaring the existence of one unseen God. 
But it does far more than this. It declares the attributes 
of God, which are found, first, to be in harmony with his 
attributes as exhibited in nature, although men had been 
blind to this exhibition of them, and second, to be directly 
opposed to the universal and fanatical belief of the Jews 
themselves. He is declared to be the universal Father, in- 
finite in love, and therefore, in the same degree which is 
beyond degree, in mercy and forgiveness ; and with whom 
every soul, throughout all the nations of the earth, has the 
same intimate relations. Out of these relations there 
springs one single natural command. To this command 
the Bible, if it be the word of God, must give expression. 
That command which man, in his normal state, would 
necessarily obey, as the free and spontaneous act of his 
rejoicing being, just as he obeys every command that grows 
out of his relation to the physical creation by putting 
forth his activity in every form for which his organs were 
given to him, that supreme command must also have its 
expression here. 

We ask for it, and the answer comes : '"' Thou shaltlove 
the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and with all thy 
soul, and with all thy might. " ^ We bow our heads, for we 
know that we are listening to the voice of the God of 
nature. Expressing the relation that really exists between 
man and his Maker, but which was never conceived of by 
him, as existing between himself and any deity of his own 
creation ; and given with a comprehensiveness and an en- 
ergy of repetition that befit its transcendent consequence, 
and exceed that of any other form of words that ever was 
uttered in the ear of man, this command, that seems to 
ring through the earth and the heavens, could only have 
come from Him who had created man in His own image. 

But even another test remains. What would the God 



Deut. 6: 6. 



152 

of nature, the Being of infinite and universal and change- 
less love, do with respect to man in his abnormal con- 
dition i Would the God that gives the sunshine and the 
rain leave man in the condition in which, however he 
reached it, he is incapable of recognizing the existence of 
the Being whose nature he does not share and so cannot 
conceive, a condition in which he feels no impulse to obey, 
but on the contrary feels every impulse to disobey, the 
command to universal love, that condition in which, to 
consider it merely in its negative aspect, that cannot be 
disputed, he is dead to all the happiness that flows from 
communion with infinite love i Is there any way of rescu- 
ing man from the fearful plight of a perverted nature, of 
making his hateful spirit lovely, that the God who cares 
for his physical being with such inconceivable provision 
could hesitate to adopt ? 

The crowning evidence that the Bible is the word of the 
God of nature is found in the answer that it makes to this 
question. In the supreme revelation there given of the 
love of God to man, in the purpose that is declared in the 
sacrifice on the cross, and in the change in the nature of 
our race, proceeding in the gradual manner that marks 
all the operations of God, which change we witness in its 
progress, obviously as the consequence of that sacrifice, 
and in the accomplishment of that purpose, we recognize 
again, beyond all possibility of doubt, the harmony be- 
tween the verbal and the physical revelations of God. 

It is sometmies made a ground of objection to the Bible, 
that it contains many mysteries. If it were a human pro- 
duction this would not be the case. In this feature we 
find another respect in which a close likeness appears 
between the Bible and the physical creation. Both have 
depths that we cannot explore. Just here we would 
naturally look in the Bible, if we assume it to be tiue, for 
a special likeness to nature. We observe that in nature, 
however little may be revealed to us, still that Ittle is just 
what we need to know, and is all that we need to know. 
However much is hidden from us, still nothing is hidden, 
the knowledge of which is essential, or could contribute, 
to our present uses and happiness. We would expect to 
find the same to be the case with the Bible. This expecta- 



153 

tion will not be disappointed. All the mysteries, and these 
are many and deep, which are presented to us in the Bible, 
are for us only matters of curious speculation. All truth 
that is necessary to be known and received by us, that can 
in any way affect our present and future welfare and 
happiness, is set before us in clear and strong light. This 
fact is not affected by the disposition of men to contend 
about the former, and to neglect the latter because they 
afford no opportunity for contention. 

Eeferring again to the remarkable character of the 
language of the Bible, it is to be observed, that the lan- 
guage which is most surely recognized by the Christian as 
being the very words of God is that which expresses, 
under so many forms, the supreme truths, of the infinite 
tenderness of the love of G-od to all men, of the personal 
relation that exists between the soul of man and God, and 
of the possible and ultimate complete unity of the human 
with the divine nature. As it was observed with respect 
to the physical descriptions and allusions in the Bible, that 
their meaning grows with each increase of our knowledge, 
and each enlargement of our conceptions, so, in an emi- 
nent degree, is it the case with the language that we are 
now considering. The comprehension and enjoyment of 
this language by us depends entirely for its degree upon 
the development of univei'sal love in our souls. This lan- 
guage has no interest or meaning for the human spirit in 
its abnormal state. It grows more expressive just as the 
spirit becomes more responsive to infinite love. It is equal 
to every demand. In it every longing finds its satisfaction, 
and trust its complete expression. 

I cannot avoid repeating, as especially applicable to this 
subject, the thought with which the last paper was con- 
cluded. The absurdity of any expression of opinion re- 
specting the language of the Bible by those who can 
see nothing in it, and of opposing any argument whatever 
against the experimental knowledge of its preciousness, 
ought to be sufficiently obvious. 

Other features of the harmony between the Bible and 
nature will present themselves, when we come to consider 
the subjects of faith and suffering and prayer. The facts 
already observed, however, sufficiently warrant the con- 



154: 

elusion, that the Bible is in harmony with the revelations 
made in the physical creation, and that it supplements 
these revelations; that to the soul that is able to receive 
it, and just in the desjree in which the soul is able to re- 
ceive it, the Bible completes and consummates the revela- 
tion of the infinite love of God. 



165 



PERFECTION. 



The purpose of the last paper was to point out some 
features of the agreement or harmony that exists between 
the Bible and the physical modes of revelation, or what 
may be embraced in the general expression, "the nature of 
things. " An additional illustration of this harmony is 
afforded in the identical standard of conduct that is fixed 
by each. The fitness of mechanical science for exhibiting 
this harmony is also illustrated here. A common standard 
of conduct that transcends human experience, affords an- 
other and a very impressive proof, that the Bible has pro- 
ceeded from the same Infinite Being who is manifested in 
the nature of things. 

In mechanical science there has been revealed to man 
the actual standard of excellence, which is perfection. 
From the very nature of the case, this is the only standard 
that can be recognized in mechanics ; for if it be not, then 
where, on the the sliding scale of imperfection, shall the 
standard be set ? This standard is, to be sure, a purely 
'theoretical one, unattainable by man in practice. None 
are so deeply conscious of this, as are they whose efforts 
have enabled them to approach most nearly to it. The 
more highly educated the mechanical sense becomes, the 
more obvious the fact appears, that perfection is the only 
standard that can in reality exist . This standard admits 
of no compromise with imperfection. Its claims admit of 
no argument in their support. To the mind that is capa- 
ble of perceiving them they are self-evident. 

It is to be observed, also, that this standard in mechanics 
could not have been originated by man. Man has needed 
to be educated up to it, by the slow process of mechanical 
revelation. This bare statement would doubtless be dis- 
puted by some. It forms an important link in my argu- 
ment. It is therefore necessary that its correctness shall 
be established. The fact is, those who would question 
this statement would do so only because they do not know 
what it means. In advance of any mechanical education, 



156 

men generally will say, honestly enough, that every one 
ought to aim at perfection in mechanical work. But they 
mean by this word something that is attainable, and often 
easily attainable, and with which they would be completely 
satisfied. They do not mean the real standard of excel- 
lence, but only their ow^n imaginary standard, the best 
they can themselves form an idea of. It would be idle to 
talk to them about anything more exacting. They would 
only reply : '^ What do you want of anything any better 
than that ? " 

It is difficult to realize how gradually, and in what 
a large degree, the idea of mechanical truth has grown 
in the' minds of men, as the result of education. I 
saw in practical use in the city of Oporto, a few years 
ago, the following method that was then employed in 
that city for signalling each day the hour of noon. A 
cannon was planted in an opening in the tow^er of a 
church. The hammer was held up by a string. As the 
rays of the sun appeared past an angle of the wall, they 
were focalized on the string by a lens and burned it in 
two, when the hammer fell and the gun was fired. If it 
were a cloudy day, or if for any reason the cannon failed 
to be fired within a reasonable time, it was the duty of a 
priest to go up the church-tower and cut the string, or 
make the hammer to strike by hand. I saw nothing pro- 
duced in the same city that appeared to be more nearly 
round than the wheels of the carts, that were hewn out of 
planks with the axe. 

Thus a consideration of what the mechanically unedu- 
cated or partially educated mind intends, when it employs 
the term "perfection" in a mechanical sense establishes 
the truth of our proposition. It is now obvious enough, 
that, in its real sense of absolute truth unattainable by 
finite endeavor, perfection is a standard that has needed 
to be revealed to man, and that by slow degrees. 

The educated mechanic stands amazed when he beholds 
everywhere in nature the actual realization of this ideal 
perfection. This great subject can only be alluded to here. 
In the following paper it will be briefly considered, and a 
few of its inummerable lessons be presented. 

One who has become familiar with the existence of this 



167 

necessary standard of mechanical excellence reads with a 
peculiar sensation the blazing command of the Christ : 
'^Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in 
heaven is perfect. " Here the same unattainable standard 
is set. The mere command: "Be ye therefore perfect," if 
it stopped there, would have left every one to set his own 
imaginary standard, and to be satisfied with his own at- 
attainment. But it would not have declared the true 
standard, the only real standard of conduct. This is set 
beyond all doubt or cavil in the added words, "even as 
your Father which is in heaven is perfect." We observe 
with gladness that this was not a new command, first 
uttered by the Christ, although it was given by him with 
more unmistakable distinctness and emphasis than it had 
received before; but, as in the case of the command to 
love our neighbor, this also had been declared of old. 

Now the mind to whom the real standard of mechanical 
excellence has been revealed cannot fail to see, and to rea- 
lize vividly, the fact, that this command to spiritual ex- 
cellence was not, and could not be from man. To such a 
mind this command appears as the expression of the 
universal standard of absolute truth, in its application 
to spiritual beings; as the very same command that the 
mechanic hears respecting all his work. 

An essential unity pervades all physical and spiritual 
existence. There is one law for both. Truth is a univer- 
sal quality, not admitting of degrees, that in the nature of 
things is demanded in both these forms of being alike. 
Indeed, truth in physical expression is only the manifesta- 
tion of truth previously existing in spiritual being. The 
degree of approach to the former is determined entirely by 
the degree of conformity to absolute truth that has been 
reached by the latter. This every engineer understands 
full well In the declaration of this standard of spiritual 
excellence, he recognizes, therefore, the voice of the giver 
of all being. In the command itself he recognizes a uni- 
versal expression. " As your Father in heaven is perfect " 
is the only real standard of all excellence. This is illus- 
trated in all the works of creation. It is revealed to man 
as the standard by which all his physical work is to be 
measured. And now in the only possible way, through 



15S 

human speech, it is declared in its appHcation to moral 
beings. 

Thus perfection is presented to us. everywhere, and in 
all ways, as the essence of the divine nature, and as the 
law of all worthy activity, the goal of all human endeavor, 
both in our relations to physical and to spiritual being. As 
there could be no other physical standard, so there could 
be no other spiritual standard. But neither the one nor 
the other could have been originated by man. Man could 
not give expression to a standard of spiritual excellence, 
any more than he could express a standard of physical ex- 
cellence, that is beyond his power to conceive. Both these 
must have proceeded from the same infinite source. 



159 



NATURAL RELIGION, 



I have endeavored to show that the being of God is a 
fact, that can be revealed only as love, and can be recog- 
nized only by love; that this highest of all truths can- 
not be reached by inferior modes of our spiritual activity, 
but demands for its apprehension the exercise of the high- 
est of all the forms of this activity. If I have been suc- 
cessful in this endeavor, then it will be obvious that it is a 
misnomer to call Natural Theology a science. This so- 
called science claims to be a method of demonstrating to 
the understanding the existence of God, by evidence drawn 
from His works. In other words, it is an attempt to do 
that which in the nature of things cannot be done. This 
^'science'" is in fact only a human contrivance, designed 
on wrong or imaginary principles, and therefore one which 
must be mischievous in its operation. 

If we will imagine the children of a watchmaker, study- 
ing a watch, in order to find evidence of the existence of 
their father, who has been before their eyes and treating 
them with unspeakable tenderness all their lives, we will 
have the case exactly. If we will conceive that, while all 
this has been true respecting the father, still the children, 
under the influence of some strange spell, remain in igno- 
rance of his being; that while, in helpless dependence upon 
him, they are carried in his bosom, and are the objects of 
his love and care in an inconceivable degree, still all the 
knowledge they can get respecting him is that he made 
that watch, and a great many other mechanical con- 
trivances, we will have the sum of what can be found out 
about God by the method of natural theology, or by fol- 
lowing the poet's advice, and endeavoring to "look 
through nature up to nature's God." 

This so-called science was a natural product of the mind 
at a certain stage of its growth. There has been a long 
period during which all the relations of the soul of man to 
God have been regarded as being primarily the subjects of 
the human understanding. Our emotional nature, our 



160 

real spiritual being, has been treated by theologians with 
but little more regard than it has been by men of science. 
The highest form of our mental or spiritual activity has 
been neglected, and its great office, as the direct and ex- 
clusive medium for the revelation to us of the highest 
truth, has been ignored. The clear light of infinite truth 
has moreover been obscured and distorted by transmission 
through human media. The words of men have been 
substituted in place of the revelation of God, to an almost 
incredible extent. Prominence, in some cases almost ex- 
clusive, has been given to every form of doctrine that could 
be made to harmonize most nearly with the narrow and 
selfish and vindictive natures of men, and that could hide 
most effectually the infinite and universal and changeless 
love of God, as this love is revealed in the Bible and in 
nature. 

The imagined omnipotent faculty of the reason has been 
exalted as the infallible guide to truth. Theologians have 
been trained to rely on severe processes of thought, and the 
fact that these processes led different minds to contradic- 
tory conclusions was powerless to show them the absurdity 
of this reliance. The religious mind was fitted into vari- 
ous systems of human contriving, and was fed on formu- 
las and propositions and demonstrations and deductions, 
the confidence of men in which only showed the narrow- i 
ness of their conceptions. Everything else w^as made subor-|B 
dinate to those questions on which men differed, and about 
which, therefore, they could contend. 

All this naturally culminated in the supposition that the 
being and nature of God Himself came so far within the 
grasp of our comprehension, as properly to be made the 
subjects of human reasoning. On these points of doctrine 
warring views were held, and men gratified their ferocious 
propensities by killing each other for holding them. What 
rivers of blood have been caused to flow, because that 
men, while agreeing in the fundamental error of holding 
God to be the subject of human, comprehension, have 
differed in their conclusions respecting Him ! 

Minds that were educated in those schools of thought 
could of course have no perception of the absurdity of 
the system of natural theology. Its deductions were of a 



161 

nature essentially similar to those to which they were ac- 
customed. These deductions were reached by methods of 
the same exclusively intellectual character, as the processes 
of thought in the use of which they had been educated. 
Both arrived at the conception of a purely imaginary 
divinity. The living God, the God of the Bible and of 
nature, who can only be revealed to the spirit that loves 
its neighbor as itself, was equally hidden from both. 

By a process quite insensible, and aided by influences 
which, like force, are discernible only in their effects, the 
mind of the more advanced portions of our race has for a 
long time been outgrowing this infantile stage. The true 
nature of religion is coming to be better perceived. • Har- 
mony of the natures of individual men with the nature 
of God, in love, is seen, more and more distinctly, to 
constitute its sole essence. 

The merely intellectual nature, with its beliefs about 
what is utterly beyond its comprehension, is being 
dethroned from its usurped supremacy ; and the emo- 
tional nature, and the conduct as determined by the 
affections, are coming to be accorded their rightful place. 

The real progress of civilization and Christianization, 
which in their essence are one and the same thing, is seen 
in the greater relative importance that men attach to 
those deeper verities about which it is not possible for 
them to contend. 

Under these changing conditions of religious life, it is 
not at all a matter of surprise that the methods and the 
deductions of natural theology should, at the present day, 
receive far less attention than they once commanded. 
Their unsatisfactory nature is, in fact, very generally felt, 
even by those to whom this science has been carefully 
taught. This is a cheering indication. It is, indeed, high 
time that natural theology, that seeks in nature for 
evidences of the being of God, whom the soul has not 
'* spiritually discerned," should give place to natural 
religion^ that in everything in nature recognizes with 
adoration the active manifestation of that love which has 
been revealed through its likeness to the image formed in 
the spirit ; that sees exhibited all about it, in an infinite 
degree, the universal love that it feels. It is high time 



162 

that the works of God should be studied again in the 
spirit of the Psalms. The disposition of religious thought, 
that even yet prevails under the benumbing influence 
of our scientific education, to regard with little concern 
the mighty religious influences by which we are in fact 
enveloped, is matter for profound astonishment. 

When God has been revealed within the spirit, in the 
only possible way, by the recognition of love, and is then 
seen to fill the universe with his presence ; when the glad 
soul, in its freedom, finds itself a participant in the 
harmony of the creation, in which nothing exists for 
itself, but all things are in ceaseless activity for beneficent 
purposes ; then, indeed, the study of the love of God in 
its physical manifestations, so far as our limited powei's 
enable us to pursue it, becomes unquestionably the most 
satisfactory of all mental occupations. 

In this study we are not seeking after evidences of the 
being of God. Far from it. The spirit has already found 
rest and peace in the certain recognition of this supreme 
truth. No question respecting the being of God can 
disturb it, or can even enter its consciousness. But the 
spirit delights to come more consciously into the presence 
of God, to see his glory revealed to it, so far as it can 
endure the sight, and, while lost in wonder at the wisdom 
and the skill that his works display, to adore the love 
which it beholds animating and directing the whole. In 
this study we admire, also, the evidence that God has 
created us in His own image. He has given to us the in- 
teUigence by which we are, in some degree, however small, 
able to understand the divine methods of operation, and 
ourselves, though at so great a distance, to employ similar 
methods, and to exercise similar skill. This is a fact 
which affords corroborative evidence of the strongest 
character in support of the truth of the perception of aU 
spiritual realities by recognition. To this evidence atten- 
tion will shortly be invited. 

Although, in any proper view of the works of God, the 
wisdom and skill which these works display are obscured 
by ther brighter light of the Divine love, or, to drop the 
figure, although the former can have little of real interest 
for us, except in the degree in which the latter is revealed, 



163 

and then the beneficent purpose manifest in everything 
must occupy the supreme place in the thought, still it will 
conduce to clearness of apprehension, if we separate these 
in our mind for a little time, and observe the former alone, 
so far as possible without regard to the omnipresent 
motive. 

We have been so constituted that, when once the Infi- 
nite Mind has been recognized, we then perceive intui- 
tively that the creation must have emanated from that 
mind, and must be the manifestation or expression of it. 
The philosophy of this perception is very simple. We 
reason from ourselves. We observe our own process of me- 
chanical construction. In a subordinate sense, man is 
himself a creator. His creation has a uniform order, from 
which no variation is conceivable. That order is this : 
First, he forms in his mind the idea. This mental concep- 
tion is for him a real spiritual entity, which he beholds in 
his *' mind's eye" as distinctly, as though it were sensible 
to his touch. Afterwards he produces its material coun- 
terpart, which cannot vary from the original in his 
thought, ''even by the estimation of a hair." The thought 
grows or changes in his mind. Corresponding develop- 
ment or change is demanded in the visible duplicate or 
representation of it. When completed, his work stands 
before him merely as his embodied thought. Whatever 
the nature of his creation may be, and whether it be 
simple or complicated in any degree, in all cases alike the 
form, the adaptation to its use, the function of every part, 
the relations of the several parts to each other, all these 
together, constitute the material realization of his idea, 
the expression of his purpose, the visible representation of 
his thoughts, of his whole spiritual nature, so far as the 
work affords opportunity for such representation to be 
made. Thus in our own creative work we find that all 
possibihty of material existence is determined and limited 
by the pre-existent thought and pui-pose in our minds. 
This uniform order of creation is familiar in all our expe- 
rience. We cannot conceive of any other. Analogy com- 
pels us, from this uniform experience, to draw the uni- 
veral conclusion : First in the order of being must be a 
mind. In this mind the thought must be perfected. 



164 

Afterwards only can material existence come to be, as the 
embodiment of such thought. 

This uniform order of creation is to be observed in every- 
thing. The voice cannot even produce a tone, until this 
tone has been formed in the mind, and has been heard by 
the mental ear ; and just as this mental tone is true or un- 
true, firm or uncertain, so precisely will its audible coun- 
terpart be. But this order finds its most complete illustra- 
tion in the endlessly varied applications of mechanical 
science to the uses of man. These applications constitute 
one of the distinguishing glories of civilization. Since 
everything in nature has more than a single use, and often 
multiplied uses for the same thing are known lo u*";, it is a 
reasonable supposition that mechanical science has also its 
uses, beyond and above all these material applications. 
A leading object of these papers has been to trace some of 
these spiritual uses . We now find ourselves face to face 
with another and an important one. Mechanical science 
exhibits the whole philosophy of the perception of spiritual 
realities by recognition. It shows how it is possible for us 
to have any realities, that are not of a nature to be re- 
vealed to us through our physical organs merely, placed 
before our very eyes continually, obvious to those who 
can recognize them by their resemblance to images 
already formed in their consciousness, but absolutely 
hidden from those who can form no such recoguition, and 
also beyond the power of words to convey the knowledge 
of them, except so far as the words can revive in conscious- 
ness images that had been previousl}^ formed. 

In a moving machine the uninstructed mind sees parts 
in motion merely, and this is all that it can see. The 
mechanically instructed mind, on the contrary, in a degree 
precisely proportionate to the depth of its own insight, sees 
that which produces and determines every motion, and 
the object and effect of every motion, and the forces, static 
and dynamic, that are exerted, or that are developed, in 
every part of the machine, to produce or to resist motion. 
This perception varies with each individual, and no finite 
mind ever possessed that complete insight that would en- 
able it to recognize every force that is exerted in even the 
most simple moving machine. 



165 

Thus we find it to be the case respecting force, in these 
various modes of its manifestation, that if images corres- 
ponding sufficiently to these modes of manifestation have 
not already been formed in our consciousness, then we can- 
not recognize these manifestations of force, we are dead 
to their existence. But if these are already familiar ob- 
jects to us, then we look within the material forms, and 
recognize their presence. 

So, if we were not ourselves capable of mechanical con- 
struction, we could not recognize mechanical construction 
in the works of God. If we possessed no mechanical skill 
ourselves, mechanical skill in the universe would be shown 
to us in vain. All things would possess no more signifi- 
cance for us than the cuneiform inscriptions do. We would 
see only shapes that had no meaning. These shapes be- 
come informed for us with thoughts, only because we our- 
selves can inform material shapes with thoughts. 

It is also to be observed that if this likeness exists in our 
consciousness, we must recognize it. If our own con- 
sciousness furnishes an analogous reality, then the mani- 
festation of the constructive thought, purpose and skill 
cannot be presented to us without instant recognition. 
We at once look within the material form, and behold the 
spiritual reality that is manifested. 

Thus mechanical science gives us the key to all spiritual 
perception. Beyond mere material forms, we see without 
only that which we recognize, because the same thing 
already exists within ourselves. If we are ourselves 
skilled workmen, and nothing else, then we can see in the 
physical universe only the skilled workman. If we are 
chemists and nothing more, creation is for us the uni- 
versal laboratory of the infinite chemist. If we are merely 
mathematicians, we can form no conception associated 
with anything that we see except a mathematical concep- 
tion. So far as they go, these conceptions would all be 
correct. The fault with them is that they are only partial 
and subordinate conceptions. But every moral being is 
capable of something more than being a skilled workman, 
or a chemist, or a mathematician. He is capable, also, of 
the feeling of love in endless degree of development, and 
of perceiving the fact, that this feeling of love is the sole 



166 

foundation of all worthy character and conduct. Just in 
the degree that this feeling exists, by the same necessity, 
the universe is seen to be animated by love. This is God, 
and thus only through the necessary recognition of love, 
can he be revealed to raan. 

A httle incident, that became invested with both a sweet 
and a mournful interest, will help us to see more clearly 
the line between the revelation of God and the deductions 
of natural theology. In the summer of 1882, travelling one 
evening on the steamboat Bristol, I spent a few minutes 
in looking through the window in the saloon at the engine, 
While thus occupied, I heard an exclamation of delight 
near me, and turning I saw a girl of IT or 18 years, 
attended by a gentleman, and gazing with rapture on the 
ponderous machinery. I was instantly arrested by her 
appearance, and thought I had never seen so spiritual an 
expression. Her face was luminous, and riveted my sight. 
After watching the movements of the great engine in 
silence for some time, she slowly exclaimed, as if to her- 
self, unconscious of any other presence, "only to think of 
the mind— ihdii could plan all that !" The next morning 
I read in a Boston journal the telegraphic announcement 
of the death of Erastus W. Smith, the designer of the 
engines of the Bristol, and so the last one of the long 
line of discoverers and inventors and designers, whose 
minds had successively helped to " plan all that." 

Here the intelligence of this remarkable young person 
had penetrated to, and her whole thought was absorbed 
by, the only spirituality that the case could present to her, 
and that was, the mind that could plan what was to her so 
wonderful. A mechanical expert would, of course, see 
much more than this. In a degree corresponding with 
the degree of his own skill and experience, he would see 
the functions of the various parts of the mechanism, and 
the adaptation of each part to its purpose. He would per- 
ceive the operations that must go on out of sight, in order 
that visible action should take place. Each of these things, 
and many others, would be recognized by the expert, just 
so far as corresponding images had previously been foi'med 
in his mind. 

All this was, of course, entirely beyond the girl's per- 



16T 

ception. She had never had formed in her consciousness 
images that would enable her to recognize any of these 
features. She had only a vague and wondering idea of 
the intelhgence that would enable a mind to ''plan all 
that." About this mind two things are to be noted : First, 
the conclusion is not warranted that it could do anything 
else except this. Probably it could not do any other thing 
so well. Second, the perception of this mind does not sug- 
gest the idea of any personal relation whatever between it 
and the admirer of its work. Xo thought or f eehng arises 
of love or faith or worship. The suggestion of such senti- 
mencs is seen to be utterly incongruous. 

This illustrates the failure of natural theology, and re- 
veals its cause. This miscalled science employs a wrong 
method, or rather it is a wrong method. It is as if a man 
should begin at the top to build a house. The method of 
natural theology is utterly powerless to create in the spirit 
the activity of universal love. It can therefore give to us 
no perception of God, the being animated by infinite 
love, and with whom we have personal relations. The 
Bible teaches us that the activity of universal love, that 
form of our spiritual activity by which we are able to 
recognize God, is a divine gift. Natural theology, on the 
contrary, assumes that without the employment of this 
gift, the knowledge of God can be attained by a process of 
reasoning. It is a human method taught by men, in op- 
position to the divine method. 

I have insensibly been led back to the further discussion 
of natural theology; but will now endeavor to adhere to the 
especial line of observations that I have j^roposed, and to 
present in a brief form a few illustrations of the wisdom 
and skill that fill the universe. 

When God has been revealed in the spirit, then it is 
true that all education is a help, and a very great help, 
to the recognition of his presence. There are two obser- 
vations of a general nature, that are calculated to make 
an especially deep impression on the mind of the engineer, 
on account of tlie education that he has received. The 
first of these observations is — creation without a mistake! 
This great fact cannot arrest the attention of others in the 
same degree. Indeed the mass of mankind are inclined 



168 

rather to pass it idly by, as a thing of course. But the 
engineer becomes acquainted with the slow and painful 
growth of mechanical thoughts in finite minds. He is 
familiar with the constant mistakes that mark the pro- 
gress of every mechanical invention from its rude incep- 
tion to its successful use. He knows moreover that per- 
fection is never reached by man; that the detection of 
defects in any human work is only a question of depth of 
insiglit. He is aware that, while any single mind always 
finds its resources exhausted, and for that reason can 
often see nothing wanting in its work, still improvements 
perpetually suggest themselves to fresh explorers. Words 
cannot convey an idea of the indescribable sensation of 
awe with which such a mind contemplates the perfection 
that it sees exhibited throughout the mechanism of the 
creation. 

The second of these observations is this : In human 
mechanical constructions simplicity is found to be a prime 
necessity. This feature is the constant aim of every suc- 
cessful designer. Moreover, when the parts of any ma- 
chine are numerous, the disposition of them, so that they 
may operate without interfering with each other, is 
always a serious problem, and often it is one involving- 
grave difficulties. Now, when a mind familiar with this 
experience contemplates what appears to it as the appall- 
ing complications which are necessarily involved in all 
the structural works of the Creator, complications which, 
commencing with the disposition and movements of the 
heavenly bodies, extend throughout all being, and seem 
greatest of all in the structure of the most minute organ- 
isms, and when he beholds everywhere perfect harmony 
of structure and of operation, he cannot fail again to be 
impressed by the sight in a degree that is not possible in 
another mind not possessed of the same pi'actical knowl- 
edge. He sees that in the works of God it is not neces- 
sary to sacrifice anything to simplicity. While in each 
individual organization the number and the variety of 
functions to be performed seem endless, the most direct 
means for performing each one are always provided, 
nothing is wanting that is required for any use, and 
nothing is found to exist except for a use, and, however 



169 

massed together, every member of each separate system 
performs its functions without interference from any 
others. 

Although observations on this subject that are possible 
here must be very superficial, since a lifetime may be 
devoted to the study of a single organism, and even to a 
single member or feature of an organism, still, even upon 
such a general view, we cannot fail everywhere to behold 
infinite intelligence in its omnipresent activity. 

A few illustrations will be given, drawn from the circu- 
lations in nature, which may leave on our minds a deeper 
impression of the harmony that everywhere prevails, as 
this is especially seen, first, in the adaptation of each 
thing to varied uses, and, second, in the cooperation of 
various agencies for the accomplishment of a single pur- 
pose. 

The first one of these illustrations will be found in 

THE CIRCULATION OF WATER. 

Water presents the only form or combination of matter 
in the fluid state that can support either vegetable or 
animal life. The structure of every organism is adapted 
to receive it, and every one is dependent upon it. Every 
animal and every vegetable must drink or perish. The 
presence and purity of this universal necessity are secured 
by a continuous circulation, in which water, rising in an 
invisible state from the whole surface of the earth, is 
borne in the air, either in this state or in the form of 
clouds, until, under certain unknown conditions, it is re- 
turned to the earth in rain or snow. 

For the existence of water we are indebted to the 
pressure of the atmosphere. If this were without weight 
there could be no organic being. Organic being is depend- 
ent upon water, and water exists in a fluid state only 
under pressure. Under the pressure of the atmosphere, 
and at ordinary temperatures, water passes gradually into 
the gaseous state. As the vapor that is formed by this 
evaporation becomes cooled in the upper regions of the 
atmosphere, a portion of it is condensed and forms clouds. 
Here phenomena appear which science has not yet at- 
tempted to explain. 

By this condensation minute drops of water are formed. 



170 

There is no intermediate state of this substance between 
fluid water and the invisible elastic gas known as vapor 
or steam. Clouds differ from lakes only in the minute 
subdivision and separation of the particles of the water that 
composes them. At the ordinary mean elevation of 
clouds each one of the drops of water of which they con- 
sist is about one thousand times heavier than the air that 
it displaces, and yet it does not fall, not even when frozen, 
which is very often the case. By some means, also, the 
particles of water in a cloud are kept at a uniform dis 
tance from each other. When, under some unknown 
change of conditions, these become united in larger drops, 
the water descends to the earth to perform its innumerable 
functions. 

Concerning the nature of the forces which operate to 
determine the size of the minute particles of water that 
are formed by the condensation of a portion of the uni- 
formly diffused vapor, which keep those particles at a dis- 
tance from each other, and which prevent them from fall- 
ing directly to the earth —the forces to the action of which 
we are indebted for the formation of clouds — we are as 
yet ignorant. We are in equal ignorance, also, of the 
forces which determine the varied forms and dispositions 
of the clouds themselves. No plausible theory even, of a 
definite nature, has been advanced respecting the causes 
of any of these phenomena. 

Rising from the earth purified and invisible, revealing 
itself in the heavens in forms of beauty, and thence de- 
scending to renew all life, water presents to us a perpetual 
symbol. 

A general survey of some of the functions that water 
performs and has performed, will shovr the important 
part that was allotted to this familiar fluid in the scheme 
of the world. By its means the earth has been made hab- 
itable. Infinite pains have been taken to transfoj'm the 
original chaos of jagged igneous rocks, broken and heaped 
by contraction and protrusion, into the beautiful woi^ld on 
which we dwell; and water has been the medium, or the 
essential agent employed in doing the whole work. The 
extent of this work, and the time during which it has 
been in progress, are shown in the facts, that, with the 



in 

exception of occasional ejected masses, there remains no 
original igneous rock on the surface of the earth, and the 
strata of formations that have heen effected through the 
agency of water reaches to the known depth of twenty 
miles. Water has carried in suspension, or has contained 
in solution, has separated and pulverized by its motion, 
and has compacted by its pressure, this entire mass of the 
crust of the earth. It has been essential also to every 
combining and cemetitiiig and crystallizing process. More- 
over, the alluvium in all its forms, gravel, clay, loam and 
sand, desert and fertile ground alike, is the effect of the 
action of water. 

Water dissolves out of the soil all mineral substances that 
are required in the formation of plants. In this state of 
solution these substances are absorbed by the roots of 
plants, and are conducted upward to their leaves, there to 
enter into the combination with carbon, by which the 
earth becomes clothed with the varied forms of vegetable 
life. This union of mineral substances in solution with 
carbon forms the chemical basis of all organic being, of 
which being in all its forms, both vegetable and animal, 
water constitutes also by far the larger part. 

As water is the medium employed by the Infinite Intelli- 
gence by which nearly all chemical and physical changes on 
the earth have been and are now being made, so also we find 
it to be the medium given to man, to be employed by him, 
in both its fluid and its gaseous states, for the convei-sion 
of heat into every form of useful energy. 

The ministry of water never ceases. Its change of state 
is only a change of use. When mingled with the atmos- 
phere as an invisible vapor it has a new service allotted to 
it. Xow it wraps the earth with a protecting mantle, 
to prevent the too rapid loss, by radiation into space, of the 
heat received from the sun. The value of this service is 
shown by the condition of lofty mountains, where the 
action of the aqueous vapor in preventing this loss of heat 
becomes less efficient. The mountain tops are covered 
with eternal snow, in spite of the fact that the heat re- 
ceived by them from the sun is far greater than the 
amount that is able to penetrate the invisible envelope and 
reach to the level of the sea. This action of water afford^ 



172 

a striking example of the general truth, of which fresh 
illustrations reward investigation in every department of 
physics, that Infinite Wisdom has anticipated and provided 
for every requirement. 

Our second illustration is afforded by 

The Circulation of Carbon. 

After water, carbon forms one of the principal constitu- 
ents of both vegetable and animal organisms. Its circula- 
tion, which involves the ceaseless destruction and renewal 
of physical life, is crowded with activities, of which only 
the more general features come within the range of our 
observation. 

Carbon is not soluble in any known substance. It exists 
separately only in the solid state From this it passes 
directly, without intermediate fluidity, into the gaseous 
state, by combining with oxygen, from which it has not 
yet been disassociated so as to be obtained as a separate gas. 
Carbonic acid gas, the familiar compound thus formed, is 
diffused in a minute proportion throughout the atmos- 
phere, forming one-twenty-fifth of one per cent, of its vol- 
ume, and from this source the vegetable kingdom, and 
thence the animal kmgdom also, derives its entire supply of 
carbon. The leaves of plants alone, under the influence of 
light, have power to break the attractive bond by which 
carbon is united with oxygen. 

We witness here a phenomenon of a wonderful char- 
acter, but which is only a type of a class of phenomena 
that are to be observed universally. This is the coopera- 
tive action of separate and remote agencies, for the ac- 
complishment of a single end or purpose. In the leaves of 
plants, as already stated, the two constituents of their be- 
ing meet. These are mineral substances, brought b}'^ water 
from the soil, and carbon, borne in the air. Other remark- 
able features are also to be noted. If carbon were soluble 
in water, or if mineral substances were not so, in either 
case, the vegetable and animal creations, as these are con- 
stituted, could not exist. It is only in the leaves of plants 
that sunlight exerts any influence to dissociate carbon 
from its union with oxygen. 



173 

In some of its vegetable combinations, carbon is made 
adapted to the nutritive organs of animals, and being re- 
ceived by them in these forms, it becomes, next after 
water and its elements, the chief constituent of the or- 
ganic portions of their bodies. 

From both these associations or uses, vegetable and 
animal, carbon returns directly to its combination with 
oxygen. All combustion, and all decay, of either vege- 
table or animal tissues, is this recombination, in rapid or 
in gradual progress, which is also the chief terrestrial 
source of heat. In animals, this return of carbon to its 
chemical union with oxygen goes on continually through- 
out the organism, and is the source of animal heat. The 
carbonic acid gas, which is formed in this manner, is 
brought by the blood from every part of the body to the 
lungs, and is discharged into the atmosphere at each ex- 
piration, while the blood returns charged continually with 
fresh oxygeii, by which the process is continued. 

A remarkable provision is here to be noted, by which 
this recombination of carbon with the oxygen of the 
atmosphere is rendered possible. Oxygen has an almost 
universal affinity for other substances, except nitrogen, 
the gas with which it is mingled in the atmosphere. By 
reason of this general and strong greediness of oxygen 
for combination with other forms of matter, it has re- 
sulted, that this gas forms the larger component of nearly 
all compound substances, both in their solid and fluid, as 
well as their gaseous states. Oxygen combines with hy- 
drogen to form water, and it combines with various bases 
to form all the rocks and clays of the globe. All these 
combinations are of a permanent character. In the first 
one the two gases assume the liquid state under the ordin- 
ary conditions of heat and pressure. In all the combina- 
tions of the second class, oxygen becomes a solid. In 
contrast with all others of its almost universal combina- 
tions, stands the case of the union of oxygen with carbon. 
Here oxygen retains its gaseous form, and the solid car- 
bon becomes a gas. This exceptional action brings carbon 
into a state in which it is adapted to re-commence its end- 
less circuit, in the development of plant-life. Sufficient 
evidence is afforded here of a special purpose, in establish- 



174 

ing the peculiar nature of the combination of oxygen with 
carbon. This is, however, onl}' a prominent ilhistration 
of an innumerable number of cases, in which special pro- 
vision is obviously made for special uses. The cases in 
which the special purpose is evident to us are so numer- 
ous, that we are warranted in the important conclusion, 
that a special purpose determines every combination or 
association of matter. 

But we have been led away from what is perhaps the 
most remakable feature of the case. Not only does oxygen 
retain its gaseous form, and the solid carbon become a 
gas in this combination, but in order that this shall take 
place at all, there must be precisely what is found to exist, 
namely, a complete want of affinity of oxygen for nitrogen. 
There is no chemical bond or attraction between these con- 
stituents of the atmosphere that would need to be broken, 
before the union of oxygen with carbon could take place. 
Xitrogen acts, however, as a diluent, and prevents the too 
rapid union of these two gases. It thus renders a most 
important service. The affinity of oxygen for carbon is 
so strong, that, were the oxygen undiluted by nitrogen, 
their union would be destructive of life in all its forms. 
These examples illustrate the dependence of all physical 
being, and of the various effects that are obviously in- 
tended in nature, upon the presence of matter, in precisely 
the states and forms and proportions that are observed, 
and upon the possession by each separate form of matter 
of the precise qualities that it is seen to have. The sincere 
mind cannot contemplate without emotion the perfect 
adaptation to its office of each one of the innumerable 
agencies, on whose harmonious activity all physical being- 
depends. 

Our third illustration will be drawn from 

THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD IN ANIMALS. 

This has a peculiar mterest, because it shows a remark- 
able provision for avoiding mechanical difficulties. 

There are two features of the circulation of the blood, 
which, until quite recently, have escaped the attention of 
physiologists. If in the provision for animal existence, 



175 

these had also escaped the attention of the Creator, the 
animal creation would have been a failure, the mechanism 
would not have worked. 

Since the discovery of the circulation of the blood, it has 
until within a few years been supposed or assumed that 
the flow of the blood, through the channels provided for it 
was produced entirely by the action of the heart. It was 
obvious that this powerful muscle acts as a pump, first by 
its expansion, admitting the blood into its cavities, and 
then, by its contraction, impelling it through the arteries, 
capillaries and veins. With this evident action investi- 
gators were for a long time satisfied, and inquired no 
further. This action, however, considered as the only 
action that takes place, involves two difficulties that did 
not suggest themselves, until they were made apparent by 
the analogies that are afforded in mechanical experience. 

The first of these difficulties is found in the hydrostatic 
column. In any system of pipes fiUed with water, either 
at rest or in motion, the pressure of water at the base is 
greater than it is at a line six feet above the base, by two 
and five- eighth pounds on each square inch of area. Blood 
being about six per cent, heavier than water, if its cii'cu- 
lation were produced by the action of the heart alone, a 
difference, amounting, on the average of individuals, to 
about two pounds on the square inch, would exist between 
the pressures of blood in the head and in the feet, when 
the body was in the erect position, and this difference 
would disappear on lying down. Xow we know that, in 
fact, no such difference exists. Under normal or healthy 
conditions, the pressure of the blood is uniform through- 
out our bodies, and is unaffected by change of position. In 
some way this difficulty has been completely avoided. 

The second difficulty is of a nature, if possible, still 
more serious. It consists in the disposition of fluids in 
motion to take the shortest road. This is a very obstinate 
disposition. In the experience of men with their own con- 
structions, it has been found invariably, that, when alter- 
native passages between two points are provided for a 
fluid, a very little difference in the length or the direct- 
ness of these passages is sufficient to cause the fluid to 
choose the shorter or more direct route, passing entirely 



176 



through this channel, and standing quite motionless in 
the other. 

Now in this respect the different routes that are trav- 
ersed by the blood present extreme contrasts. Through 
some of the arteries and veins the communication, from 
the side of the heart from which the blood is discharged, 
around to the opposite side, at which it re-enters it, is short 
and comparatively direct, while through others it is many 
times longer and more tortuous. But the hydraulic engineer 
beholds with wonder the fact, that the current of the blood 
flows through all these alike. The action of the blood, in 
conveying nutriment to the most remote parts of the body, 
and bringing away the effete matter from them, is pre- 
cisely as efficient as it is in those parts that lie nearest to 
the heart. By some means this difficulty also has been 
suraiounted. How have these two results, which are im- 
possible with man, been effected ? 

Among recent discoveries in animal physiology is the fol- 
lowing important one, which affords the principal answer to 
this question. The powerful contractile action of the 
heart is the commencement of a muscular contractile 
wave, that passes from the heart along every artery. 
What we feel in the pulse was long supposed to be the 
swelling of the artery under the pressure of the current 
driven along by the contraction of the heart. This sup- 
position involved another difficulty, to which no attention 
was paid. The supposed swelling of the artery would in- 
volve a resistance to the passage of the blood, and there 
would be a consequent loss of pressure at every point, by 
the amount expended in overcoming this resistance. Now 
it is known that the pulse is not such a swelling of the ar- 
tery, but is the passage of this muscular contractile wave. 
Each one of these waves sends before it, in each artery, a 
volume of blood precisely proportioned to its capacity, and 
independent of the distance or direction of the flow, and 
maintains a uniform pressure to every extremity of the 
body. This wonderful action affords the only conceivable 
solution of this complicated mechanical problem. The 
next remarkable feature is, that the various arteries and 
their branches are nicely proportioned in area to the 
extent of the regions which are to be supplied with blood 



177 

through them. By this careful adaptation, under the uni- 
form wave pressure, every part of the body receives its 
equal nutriment, and we have symmetry of form. A 
muscular action, similar to the wave action in the arteries, 
is to be observed, impelling each swallow of water iip- 
icards along the neck of the horse and some other ani- 
mals while drinking. 

This glance at a few features, taken almost at random, 
and which are no more remarkable than is everything else 
in nature, of which many examples will suggest them- 
selves to the intelligent reader, will be concluded with a 
brief reference to a few of the relations or adaptations of 
widely different things to each other, which are every- 
where to be observed. These adaptations are so famihar, 
that they fail to impress us. We are liable to become as 
insensible to them as the ruler of the synagogue was to 
to the present divinity, whose presence, indeed, was not, 
in reality, any more manifest there than it is always and 
everywhere, but which was so involuntarily confessed by 
him when he said : ^' There are six days in which men 
ought to work, in them, therefore, come and be healed J^ 

These adaptations are such as the structure of the lungs 
of animals, with reference to the vital interchange, by the 
blood, of carbonic acid gas for oxygen, that is perpetually 
being effected within them ; as the adaptation of the eye 
to light, and of both the eye and light, on the one hand, 
to the objects that are to be revealed by their joint agency, 
and, on the other hand, to the spirit to whom the revela- 
tion of these objects is to be made ; of the wings of birds 
to the air, and to the weight of the body that in each case 
is to be supported in it, and to their further office of im- 
pelling this body tlirough it ; and so universally the adap- 
tation of each member of every organism, not only to its 
function, but also to those natural agencies which coop- 
erate with it in the performance of that function. 

An impressive instance of the adaptation of physical to 
spiritual being, as well as of the performance of different 
functions by a single agency, is seen in the case of the at- 
mosphere. Besides being the supporter of combustion 
and of animal and vegetable life, and performing a variety 
of familiar functions, by its pressure and otherwise, the 



ITS 

atmosphere is the medium for the conduction of sound, or 
speaking correctly, for communicating the vibrations of 
other bodies to the ears of animals. 

All matter is capable of being put into a state of vibra- 
tion. The variety of these vibrations is infinite. Every 
one of them is communicated to the omnipresent air, 
which is in close contact with all bodies under pressure. 
The atmosphere repeats and transmits all these vibrations 
by corresponding pulsations. It, moreover, repeats and 
transmits simultaneously all different vibrations that may 
be communicated to it, however numerous these may be, 
without any one being modified or affected in any manner 
by the others. The ears of animals are adapted to receive 
and repeat, in their turn, the vibrations which are com- 
municated to them by the atmosphere. Thus in some un- 
known way the mind forms the notion of sound. Sound 
is wholly a mental conception. The vibrations of matter 
are silent. The waves of the air also are as noiseless as the 
unbroken waves of the ocean. We have no idea how the 
sensation of sound is produced. Anatomy traces the most 
delicate and curious structure. But all observation of 
w^hich we seem to be capable ends where it begins, on the 
silent vibrations of matter. 

Through the medium of the atmosphere our spirits com- 
municate with one another. For this purpose we employ 
the gift of speech. This also is produced by oi'gans that 
have been designed with express reference to the atmos- 
phere. Like every other organ of our frames, the organs 
of speech, to our limited understanding, appear compli- 
cated, and in much of their extent obscure. We find in 
them, as everywhere else, everything adapted in fact, 
however little we may understand it, to the accomplish- 
ment of the perfect result; which in this case is unlimited 
capability of expression. 

Here, indeed, where the material and the spiritual con- 
nect, is something passing wonder. There is not a senti- 
ment or feeling or emotion of the soul, existing in any de- 
gree whatever, that the voice is not adapted to express. 
And, what is more than this, the voice does spontaneously 
express it. And as the ear receives the pulsations thus 
communicated to the air, the listening spirit recognizes the 



ir9 

sentiment or feeling or emotion. Thus/all human sympa- 
thies are interchanged, soul communicating with soul, 
through the amazing mechanisms of the vocal organs and 
the ear, and the pulsations of the silent air. 

In reviewing these wonders of creative skill, we have 
followed the conventional fashion, and have described them 
as if we were viewing a machine. But the spirit that has 
received the revelation of the ever-living God chafes under 
this impersonality. Through all nature it sees his presence 
and his activity. It knows the motive of this infinite 
pains. It sees the love of God, shining in every ray of 
light, falling in every drop of rain, smiling in every flower, 
ripening every grain, imparting life in every breath. Love 
is the unity that runs throughout and connects the end- 
less diversity. This love is manifested in all practical ways, 
in all common things. From its very nature, it must be 
in a state of ceaseless beneficent activity, in ways adapted 
to every want of every creature, especially to every want 
of man from the very lowest up to the very highest. 

It is a remarkable fact, that pricisely similar conduct, 
or practical manifestation of love, constitutes the test that 
was given by the Christ, to determine the existence of 
the same love in the human spirit: "I was hungry and 
ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink." 
We at once recognize this conduct, in the case of man, to 
afford the real evidence of the existence of this love. We 
see it to be its necessary expression. 

Here, also, is found the real solution of the painful prob- 
lems of sociology. All human devices, resting on any other 
foundation, must come to naught. The divine provision 
is the simple and radical one, of universal love, as the 
animating spring of human, as it is of the divine, conduct. 
Of this love we can at present form in our consciousness 
only faint and distorted images. Changes will be neces- 
sary in our very habits of thought, before these images can 
become clear and true. 

For one who is fond of observing the practical ways in 
which the universal love of God finds its expression, the 
material provision that has been made for man's activity 
and develepement presents an attractive field. Our whole 
being consists of wants. The progress of civilization is 



180 

indicated by the increase in the number, and the elevation 
in the character, of our wants. For the supply of those 
of a physical nature we are wholly dependent on the earth. 
But we scarcely think of this dependence. The earth 
abounds with resources, adapted to every want as it arises. 
These w^e appropriate to our service generally without a 
thought either of the dependence or the provision. A brief 
reference to a single one of these provisions may aid us to 
a partial realization of their varied and boundless nature. 

If an individual, in ignorance of any reality, should en- 
deavor to imagine what a Being of infinite knowledge and 
beneficence would be most likely to provide for man, in a 
single form of matter, every w^here distributed, that should 
be of the utmost general use to him, that he could put into 
shapes siutable for any purpose, that in weight and 
strength should meet the greatest variety of his require- 
ments, that should be capable of combiniug with other 
forms of matter, and in these combinations should possess 
a variety of useful properties, additional to its own, 
that, as his civilization advanced, he should find suited to 
a greater and greater number of his wants, and, as his 
knowledge increased, he should be able to apply to a 
greater and greater variety of purposes, and that, in all its 
forms, and in the characters that it assumes by combining 
w^ith other substances, should be especially adapted to aid 
him in applying the agencies of nature to iiis use, and so 
in promoting his own civilization, the strongest imagina- 
tion could never have conceived of the reality that we 
possess, in iron. No finite mind can compi-ehend the in- 
numerable uses of iron, from the cultivation of the soil to 
the transmission of thought, nor measure its importance 
to the human race. But iron is only one of the multitude 
of provisions for our welfare, w^ith which we are already 
familiar. Probably there is no form of matter w^ithout 
its use, or more likely its multitude of uses, very ijiany of 
which we have yet to learn. In the animal frame every 
part has its use. We have reason to JDelieve that the same 
must be the case with every form of matter in the earth 
itself, and that too in a higher sense, namely, in adapta- 
tion to our voluntary employment of it. 

In earlier papers the physical creation has been pre- 



181 

sented as our educator in two respects. Attention has 
been directed to the ministries of force and of truth. Our 
complete dependence on the physical creation f oi' our men- 
tal, as well as for our physical, sustenance and growth 
has been briefly referred to. We have admired the adap- 
tation of all things by which we are surrounded to the de- 
velopment of our spiritual, as well as our physical, powers, 
by use and exercise. We have seen, moreover, how truth 
in the physical creation is adapted to promote the growth 
of truth in the human spirit. The latter we recognize to 
be a higher office thau the former. The elevation of 
human character is an object of unspeakably greater con- 
sequence than the increase of human knowledge. The 
normal effect of physical iufluences should be that these 
would advance hand in hand. 

Now, we have presented to us another adaptation, har- 
monious with these, but of a higher nature still. To bring 
the human spirit in its emotional nature, in its essential 
being, into harmony with the nature of God, is an object 
to which all other objects must be subordinate. These 
must be accounted worthy or unworthy, just as they tend 
to promote or to hinder this supreme result. All educa- 
tion has its noblest use and reason in the fact, that it fits 
the soul of man more intelligently and more profoundly 
to worship God. This supreme end, of transforming the 
spiritual nature of man into likeness to God, is the end 
that the physical creation is above all adapted, and 
so evidently intended, to promote. It performs this work, 
first, by the constant exhibition of truth, which has 
already been dwelt upon, and second and chiefly, by set- 
ting before mankind, perpetually, the stupendous mani- 
festation of the infinite, the universal and the unchang- 
able love of God. 

W^e have observed that everywhere in nature there is to 
be seen the co(3peration of many independent agencies, 
working together in harmony, for the accomplishment of 
every particular purpose. In the same manner precisely, 
we have these infinitely varied manifestations of the 
divine love in nature, evidently intended to cooperate, in 
the same perfect harmony, with the supreme manifesta- 
tion of the same love, that is revealed in the Bible, for the 



182 

accomplishment of the same great purpose. It is of the 
greatest consequence that this harmony should be recog- 
nized. Then the sacrifice of the cross must be looked upon 
as the necessary expression of the same love that is shown 
in nature. It is seen to be precisely what we ought to look 
for. 

The adaptation of the physical creation to its inferior 
educational uses is something that we recognize at once, 
and turn it to full practical account. For these purposes 
we give all diligence to the study of nature. We derive 
all possible intellectual advantage from the wonders of the 
creation by which we are environed. But the highest of 
its uses, and the one which it was obviously intended 
above all others to serve, we are slow to perceive. We 
are not eager to study the love of God in nature, and to 
open our souls to its transforming inflaeiice. This supreme 
spiritual revelation we are blind to, naturally, and this 
blindness has been actually darkened by our system of 
education. 

Physical science, as at present limited, is chiefly respon- 
sible for the false education that now generally prevails. 
This science exercises a controlling influence on the forma- 
tion of our very habits of thought, and it supplies, to a 
great extent, the formulas of speech that men are accus- 
tomed to employ. Its influence is mischievous. It com- 
pletely disregards and ignores the principal thing. It 
forms its conclusions on a partial view of the facts. It 
admits into consciousness only that to which the mind 
reaches, in the inferior modes of its activity. To these 
things it insists upon confining the attention, as to the 
only things that can be known. The highest of all truths, 
that which at once unifies and vivifies the whole, the 
truth that is of so much greater consequence than those 
to which it limits its thought, that it were infinitely better 
that all those should perish out of human knowledge than 
that this one should be lost, to this it is dead. 

It ignores, as a source of knowledge, the highest form 
of our spiritual activity, through which alone the revela- 
tion of the highest truth can be received. It dismisses, as 
undeserving of philosophic regard, the activity of love, 
the spring of all worthy conduct in man, and by the 
recognition of which only can infinite love be revealed. 



183 

which is the spring of all the conduct of God. And it ex- 
alts the reason, a fiction of its own brain, and makes the 
supposed conclusions of this imaginary faculty the limits 
of its belief. 

This unspeakable foolishness is easily exposed. The 
philosopher says to one whom he looks down upon as an 
ignorant man, and who does not believe in his instruction: 
'' My friend, what do you know about the matter ? What 
right have you to express, or even to form, any opinion at 
all on the subject?" Ah! it is clear enough that the 
ignorant unbeliever has not had all the facts revealed to 
him ; he cannot receive the revelation of them ; they are 
shown to him in vain. Yet he is presuming to exercise the 
judicial functions of his mind on the basis of what there is 
in his consciousness. Of course, he is judging of matters 
quite beyond him, on insufficient and erroneous and imagin- 
ary data. The unbeliever is himself, however, quite un- 
conscious of all this. He cannot see, and so he will not 
believe, that outside of his little horizon there can exist 
anything, that, if he knew it, would change all his conclu- 
sions. He insists upon the authority of what he has been 
taught to call his reason. 

The philosopher abandons the attempt to enlighten him ; 
sighs as he reflects upon the process through which the 
uneducated mind must pass before it can stand on his 
more elevated plane of thought ; then turns away, and 
proceeds to do the very same thing. While taking no ac- 
count of the two controlling facts, namely, the being of 
God and the endowment of man with a mode of spiritual 
activity, by the recognition of which he comes to a certain 
knowledge of that being, the philosopher assumes that he 
embraces within his consciousness everything required as 
a basis for a final judgment, and he appeals to his reason 
as the final arbiter. In the view of infinite intelligence, 
very little difference will appear between the knowledge of 
the two individuals, or their right to rely on their own 
judicial findings. 

I remember, at a meeting of the British Association for 
the Advancement of Science, held at Newcastle-on-Tyne, 
some twenty years ago, listening to an account, given by 
Mr. Glaisher, of a balloon ascension that he had made for 



184 

scientific observations, with Mr. Coxwell, a noted aeronaut, 
from a point near London. This impressive description 
fixed itself in my memory. Mr. Glaisher said that as 
they rose higher and higher, irregularities on the surface 
of the earth gradually disappeared; well-known elevations 
became more and more indistinct ; until at last none of 
these could be recognized, but the whole landscape ap- 
peared to be on one level, and that the level of the Thames. 
Science has had a surprising degree of success in ren- 
dering mankind insensible to the spiritual influences of 
the creation around them. Through the direction that it 
takes of our education, it is able actually to control our 
very modes of thought. It has taken care that no ideas 
beyond those of force and law shall enter the mind in its 
forming stage. This influence of science on the theological 
mind generally has far outweighed the effect of the con- 
trary teaching of the Bible. As a result, pulpit instruction 
rarely rises above the impersonal idea, so fearfully false, 
of a regular constitution aud order of nature, with which 
the Almighty only occasionally interferes. This false con- 
ception we see continually carried to the length of imagin- 
ing a contrast between the God of nature and the God of 
grace ; a contrast that certainly exists between the true 
God and the imaginary being to which we arrive through 
an intellectual process. To the infinite presence, wdthin all 
the modes and forms of His manifestation, of the God to 
v^hom it makes its supplications, the pulpit is, to a large 
degree, practically dead. We are spiritually bound in 
fetters forged by men, and may sigh for the freedom of 
the poet's poor Indian, 

" whose untutored mind 
Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind." 

It is behoved that the hues of thought w^hich have here 
been faintly traced, and tliat for only a short distance, lead 
in the direction of the truth. If this behef is weU founded, 
then the cure for honest scientific skepticism ought to be 
found, by following these lines into the infinite spiritual 
domain towards w^hich they tend. 

The being of God must be at once the fundamental and 
the supreme fact of philosophy, the Alpha and the Omega, 



186 

the beginning and the end of all knowledge. As He is 
omnipresent in nature, so He should be i^resent in every 
thought of nature. If in reality everything in nature is 
the expression of His love, then any conception of any- 
thing in nature to which the love of God is not funda- 
mental must be at least an incomplete conception. 

It is safe to say that, when true science makes its ap- 
pearance in the w^orld, it will not make it its great object 
to arrest man's thought at the point where his own being 
begins. Out of the infinity of relations that exist between 
what is called matter and man and God, it will not 
select the lowest of all, or the relations between different 
forms of matter, as the only ones to which attention is to 
be directed. It will not refuse to admit the highest truths 
into consciousness, and deduce all its conclusions from 
observations of the relations between matter alone. 

The false philosphy, that divides the human mind into 
imaginary separate natures, and that imagines truth, as 
being of divers kinds, corresponding to one and the other 
of these different natures, and that rejects the emotional 
nature as a source of knowledge, is at the bottom of our 
present conventional and mistaken habits of thought. 
The cure, by which this condition of philosphic thought, 
so disastrous in its effects, is to be remedied, must there- 
fore be of a radical character. 



186 



BEAUTY. 



We are so constituted, that the appearances of the phy- 
sical creation, or those manifestations of force that are 
observable by our senses, awaken within us pleasurable 
sensations or emotions. The feelings w^hich are thus ex- 
cited are various, both in kind and in degree. They differ 
with the different characters of the objects observed, and 
also, in degree especially, with the different characters of 
the minds observing them. 

Those feelings may all be comprised under the term 
pleasurable; and, in a like general sense, beauty may be 
employed to express all the qualities, by the contemplation 
of which these pleasurable emotions are awakened. This 
general sense suits our present purpose. In this general 
sense beauty in nature is that quality that is recognized 
with a sensation of pleasure by the beautiful mind. 

The first remarkable fact about beauty is its universality. 
This can hardly escape the notice of even the most super- 
ficial observer. In all the universe, with occasional excep- 
tions obviously abnormal, every sight and sound is adapted 
to awaken in the mind some kind and degree of pleasurable 
emotion. From the glory of the starry heavens, and the 
indiscribable splendor of the sun, throughout everything 
that is revealed by its light, even to the most minute organ- 
ism, every appearance in nature, great and small, distant 
and near, in sky and earth and sea, animate as well as 
inanimate, addresses itself, either in form, or color, or 
sound, or motion, or in these modes together, with a greater 
or lesser degree of impressiveness, to our feeling of sym- 
pathy with beauty, or, to the beautiful in our own natures. 

Beauty is, moreover, endlessly varied and ever new. The 
variety of its expressions may, with propriety, be described 
as infinite. The healthy mind never becomes weary of 
their contemplation, but on the contrary grows more and 
more enamored with them. It hails every new manifes- 



187 

tation of beauty with new delight, and dwells upon every 
familiar one with deepening awe, or with more tender 
affection. Whatever the meaning of it may be, beauty is 
all about us, enveloping us on every side, and all our asso- 
ciations are with that which is adapted, in degree without 
end, to give to us delight. 

But what is beauty ? VThy is it universal in nature ? 
How comes it to be infinitely diversified and yet tlie same ( 
Why is it that we derive pleasure from the sight and con- 
templation of it i Before these questions can be answered, 
we have got to disabuse our minds completely of the con 
ventional, artificial and false education that we have re- 
ceived. 

All progress in thought is embarrassed by the systems 
and contrivances of men. We are the victims of a mania 
for classification, by means of which all idea of the unity 
of truth is lost. Strong minds map out their imaginary 
schemes. To them and their followers these schemes stand 
in the place of the tiuth. ^luch of what is called education 
consists in the handing down of those devices from learner 
to learner, each generation, in turn, teaching to the next 
one what it has itself been taught. When originality ap- 
pears, it commonly does so in a new system, more artifi- 
cial than the old one. By these means, both the unity of 
truth and also the unity of our own spiritual being grow 
more obscured, and the mind seems to lose, and undoubt- 
edly it does in some degree lose, the power to apprehend 
them. 

Beauty presents a striking instance of this pervei^sity. 
In the last century, a German professor invented the 
gesthetic sense. This disco\-^y supplied a long felt want. 
In the division of the human mind, no place had been 
made for beauty. The intellectual faculties would have 
nothing to do with it; it could not be weighed or measured. 
On the other hand, ethics had no place for it: for no idea 
of right or wrong could be affixed to it. The intellect and 
the moral sense were thus defined and limited and occupied, 
and beauty was left out in the cold. It was obviously 
necessary, if mankind was to know anything about beauty, 
that a special faculty should be contrived for the purpose. 
So all men hailed this discovery of the aesthetic sense, which 



188 

was to extricate them from such a serious dilemma, just 
as pagans were wont to hail a new divinity. Since then, 
by common consent, everything pertaining to beauty has 
been committed to this imaginary separate faculty, just 
as, in the imaginations of men, the winds were once com- 
mitted to the care of Eolus, and the sea to Neptune. 

The idea of an aesthetic sense was a natural outgrowth 
of the general tendency to artificial classification. It only 
added another to the existing list of imaginary mental 
faculties. , These must all be e^wept away together. 
The simple truth must be recognized, that the mind 
is a unit, and that what have been conceived as dif- 
ferent faculties, are only different modes of activity of the 
same conscious spirit, which modes of activity are combined 
in various degrees in every mental operation. There is, in 
truth, no result or state that is reached by any mind, 
whether this be a perception, or a conclusion, or an emotion, 
that is not the effect of the cooperation of various modes 
of our spiritual activity, as the occasion calls for their ex- 
ercise. The correct apprehension of any form of truth 
involves the harmonious exercise of many forms of this 
activity. It follows, that in order to be capable of any 
such apprehension, we need the symmetrical development 
of every potential mode of our spiritual activity We shall 
find this to be true in an especial degree in the case of 
beauty. Instead of beauty being apprehended by us through 
a medium of its own, that is neither an intellectual faculty 
nor a moral sense, the truth is, that beauty is above all 
things of a nature that demands for its perception or re- 
cognition the cooperation of every form of activity of which 
our spirits are capable. 

In the last analysis, beauty is found to be one mode of 
expression of the love of God. It is thus always associ- 
ated with the practical expressions of the same love. Both 
combine to reveal the very heart of the Father. Like the 
love which it expresses, it exists m infinite degree. Like 
that love, also it is perceived by us by recognition. No 
mind can perceive beauty in nature in degree greater than 
its own. Only the perfect, or perfectly beautiful, spirit 
can perceive beauty in its full reality, or be capable of the 
perfect joy that its recognition inspires. 



189 

Descending from this contemplation of the very nature 
of beauty, we find it to be the manifestation of excellence. 
The works of God, in their normal development, are per- 
fect. Beauty is the sign of this practical perfection. In 
those works the mind spontaneously and necessarily recog- 
nizes that degree of beauty that it itself possesses, or that 
it is capable of perceiving. 

The association in nature of beauty with utility is a sub- 
ject of profound interest. In nature everything has its 
use, or its multiplied uses. Our observation is sufficiently 
extensive to warrant this general conclusion. More than 
this, everything in nature is in a state of activity, cooper- 
ating in harmony with everything else for beneficent pur- 
poses. This also is a well established conclusion. With 
all this activity and with all these uses beauty is invariably 
and intimately associated. Indeed, this association is so 
uniform and so intimate, that the two appear to be identi- 
cal. In nature beauty may be defined to be fitness for 
beneficent uses. This is a true and an instructive defini- 
tion. It is in entire harmony with the one already given. 
It indicates the active nature of the love which beauty 
represents, and also the character of the mind that is in 
harmony with it, or by which it can be truly perceived. 
In the light of this relation, the comprehensive nature of 
beauty, and the fact that its proper apprehension calls for 
the exercise of all modes of our spiritual activity, in the ful- 
ness of their symmetrical development, will become obvious. 

Our proposition then is, that the beauty of anything in 
nature consists in its fitness for practical beneficent uses. 
The mind that is itself in any degree fitted for such uses 
feels the harmony that exists between itself and such ob- 
jects in nature, and they appear beautiful to it just in that 
degree. The spirit rejoices in the harmony that it feels. 

It is customary to say that, in the harmonies of nature, 
fitness, so far as we have discovered it, is invariably found 
to be associated with beauty. This conclusion has been 
compelled, as the result of all observation. One step 
further brings us to the necessary reason of this invariable 
association. Both represent the same deep reality. We 
cannot separate them. The longer our minds dwell upon 
their relations, the more absolute their identity appears. 



190 

For us it is strictly true that fitness is beauty. It is deeply 
interesting to trace this identity of beauty in nature with 
fitness for beneficent uses, even the httle way that our 
knowledge of such uses enables us to do. 

We are able to perceive this fitness in the forms of na- 
tural objects to a ranch greater extent than in any other 
feature of them, and so it is especially in these forms that 
we perceive the identity of this fitness with beauty. 
For illustration, the outhnes of fishes and of birds are lines 
of gi-ace, their forms are beautiful, the observation of them 
gives us pleasure. But these are the outhnes and the 
forms that adapt the fishes and the birds for moving most 
easily and most accurately through the water and the air, 
and which are indispensable to these purposes. Their 
movements are also always in gi-aceful and pleasing lines; 
but the laws of force and motion do not permit these 
movements to be in any other lines, except those that are 
graceful and pleasing. 

So universally, we admire the proportions and the struc- 
ture of every creation in the animal and the vegetable king- 
doms. Every new observation makes a fresh appeal to 
our admiration. The sight of eveiy part as well as the 
whole of every organism gives us pleasure. In everv case 
we are able to perceive that the form and proportions and 
structure that we admire are precisely those that enable 
each member of the organism to perform its function most 
pei'fectly. The foliage of plants, for example, is a crown 
of beauty. It is also the organ through which the plants 
breathe, where go on the wonderful combination of mineral 
substances with carbon, which seems to be the fii'st stage 
of the vital operations that result in the growth and de- 
velopment of the plant. These all depend upon the extent 
of leaf surface that is presented to the sunlight and the 
air. The whole structure of every tree or plant is adapted 
to effect this extended exposure, and to maintain it against 
the force of storms. 

Two things are here to be noted. First, the adaptation 
of animal and vegetable structure to practical beneficent 
uses is carried to an extreme of detail that transcends our 
powers of obsei-vation. Every new exploration discloses 
uses and adaptations to uses, that were unknown to us be- 



191 

fore, and in eveiy case the completeness of this adaptation 
fills our minds with wonder. The deeper we get, also, the 
more we are impressed with the superficial nature of our 
observations. Second, the perception of the fitness of 
anything for its use increases its beauty in our eyes, and 
deepens exceedingly the pleasure with which we regard it. 
We perceive that, even with respect to forms in na- 
ture, our apprehension of their fitness for their uses is 
extremely limited, and is for the most part confined to 
general features. When we pass from them to the con- 
sideration of colors, we are obliged to admit that our 
knowledge of their uses is very slight indeed. Still this 
knowledge, slight as it is, is sufficient to warrant the same 
general conclusion that we have been compelled to arrive 
at respecting forms. We cannot entertain a reasonable 
doubt that every color also must have its use, and that 
these uses are always beneficent. We are undoubtedly 
aided to tliis conclusion by the analogy that is afforded by 
the forms of matter, where our observation of uses and of 
the identity of these uses with beauty is so much more 
extensive. But we observe in the case of color also con- 
vincing illustrations of this fitness and this identity. For 
example, green is the universal general color in the vege- 
table clothing of the earth. It is also the color that is the 
most grateful to our organs of sight in their healthy 
state, and that exeits the most healing influence upon 
them when they are impaired. This adaptation, however, 
is probably only an incidental one. Light itself, shorn of 
its glory, would cease to perform its life giving functions. 
We observe in nature an inconceivable number of bene- 
ficent results, that are being perpetually accomplished, 
although we cannot see how. Each one of those results 
involves the employment of a variety of means, or of con- 
current activities. There must, therefore, be this multi- 
tude of uses and adaptations to uses that are hidden from 
us. We cannot affirm then concerning any color in na- 
ture, in any place where it appears, that it has no use. 
This would be absurd. On the contrary we are warranted 
in concluding, in fact we are compelled to the conclusion, 
that what is true so far as our observation extends is true 
uni vers ally, — that every color as well as every form in 



192 

nature has its beneficent use, and that this is why they 
appear beautiful in our sight. 

It is to be borne in mind, that the preceding observa- 
tions have been made with reference to beauty in nature. 
In the imitative works of man. beauty gives us pleasure 
through the law of association. It suggests to us that in 
nature with which our spirits are in harmony. Among 
the works of man, architecture affords some of the most 
convincing illustrations of the identity of beauty with fit- 
ness. Architecture is not strictly an imitative art, but is 
one in which in a subordinate sense man is himself a cre- 
ator, but in which he is required to conform his work to 
the harmonies of nature. In architecture it has been in- 
variably found, so that it has become an established canon 
of the art, that complete fitness of every part of a struc- 
ture for its especial use, and of the whole for its use, 
when this fitness comes to be realized, is identical with 
beauty. 

In the perception of beauty, every mode of our spiritual 
activity, so far as these are called into exercise, must har- 
monize like the strings of an instrument. It is Dot neces- 
sary that we should have the intellectual apprehension 
of the fitness of everything for its use, in order that we 
shall feel the sense of harmony, and regard the object as 
beautiful. But if in any case we do have this perception 
of fitness, then this perception must be satisfied, or else 
the object cannot appear beautiful to us. 

This is a test that, of course, we are able to apply only 
in cases of known unfitness of an object for its use. Such 
cases cannot be found in nature. For examples of such a 
want of fitness, we must look to the works of men. 
There, indeed, unfitness in some respect or degree of a 
construction for its use constitutes the rule rather than 
the exception, and offends the mind that has been edu- 
cated to perceive this unfitness. Architecture would 
afford many illustrations in point. We must confine our- 
selves to one of an obvious nature. 

The office of the foundation of any building is to sustain 
the superstructure. This demands solidity and strength. 
These are the essential qualities of a foundation. All its 
features ought to suggest them. Whatever would deti'act 



193 

from its appropriate solidity and strength, or would sug- 
gest ideas inconsistent with those qualities^ is out of place 
in a foundation. Now we have seen ornamental work 
introduced into a foundation, with the ohvious effect of 
weakening it, or at least of conveying ideas inconsistent 
with those of solidity and strength. In a suitable place 
those forms might give pleasure, but here their incongruity 
is shocking, to the educated mind. 

Machinery again, where, as in the case of architecture, 
man is himself the creator, affords admirable illustrations 
of the same truth. Here we are able to see, also, with pe- 
culiar distinctness, the necessity for harmony through all 
the modes of our spiritual activity, if anything is to appear 
beautiful to us. The illustrations of these truths that may 
be drawn from machinery possess an especial force and 
value, because here all uses he within our comprehension, 
even more fully than they do in the case of architecture ; 
and the fitness of every part of any machine, and of the 
latter as a whole, for its use can be determined in a more 
unmistakable manner. Every machine has its special use. 
This use was proposed by ourselves, and we have made all 
the adaptations of the several parts, and of the whole, of 
the mechanism to its accomplishment, and the degree of 
our success or failure is a matter of certain observation. 
To the instructed mechanical engineer no mechanical 
forms or proportions can appear beattif ul, unless a good 
mechanical reason can be given for them. Those forms 
and proportions are always the most graceful and elegant 
that most completely fulfill mechanical requirements. "VVe 
are able to see at once, that the pleasure that the builder 
of any machine can derive from the contemplation of his 
work, all the beauty that it can possess in his eyes, depends 
wholly upon his -perception of its fitness, or of what he 
believes to be its fitness, for the use for which it was 
designed. The same is true also of any observer who has 
a knowledge of such uses. 

Now with respect to this fitness, we are in reality always 
in a greater or lesser degree mistaken. Nothing perfectly 
fitted for its use was ever made by man. Still, especially 
in our own work, we cannot see all the imperfections. All 
will admit, however, that in machine construction, per- 



194 

fection is an ideal that men may always be striving after, 
but can never reach. We may, however, observe that, 
just in the degree that we imagine ourselves to have at- 
tained a high point of excellence in any mechanical con- 
struction, just in that degree will its forms appear beauti- 
ful to us. I was once asked by a steam engine builder, as 
he contemplated his own work with an expression of abso- 
lute satisfaction and delight : ^' Why is not that a perfect 
engine ? " My own view was so different, that I was quite 
shocked by the question. This satisfaction designers 
always feel, so long as they do not know any better. But 
when afterwards, from enlarged knowledge, probably ob- 
tained by that agreeable process known as experience, we 
have come to see that our work is in fact, in some degree 
or respect, unsuitable for its purpose, all becomes changed. 
Now we look upon the same forms, but their beauty has 
vanished. The sight of them is no longer pleasing. They 
fail to satisfy our ideal. We can no longer pronounce 
them good. 

Illustrations of this nature show us also that beauty is 
the expression of all excellence. All modes of our spirit- 
ual activity must harmonize in the song of beauty. Here 
also ''good" is a word of comprehensive significance. Be- 
fore we can pronounce this word over any mechanical work, 
whether it be our own, or that of another mind, our sense 
of justice must above all be satisfied. We must be con- 
scious in our own case, and must feel assured in anj^ other, 
that the highest fidelity has been exercised. No product 
of the labor and skill, of either ourselves or another, can 
appear beautiful in our sight, unless we feel that it is the 
very best offering that we or they had been able to bring. 

Keflections of this nature render it obvious that the moral 
quality is fundamental in beauty, as we have seen it to be 
in physical truth. It is the dominant in the universal 
harmony. In considering the beauty manifested in all the 
works of God, the spirit of man in its unity, going forth in 
every form of its activity, must bow in admiration and 
wonder before that perfection, the varied forms of which 
are combined to constitute this beauty, and which was 
pronounced by the Infinite Maker himself to be very good. 

We pass nov^ from things to beings, Here a remarkably 



195 

correspondence appears. The same qualities charm us in 
both. We cannot distinguish between the feehngs with 
which we regard a beautiful landscape and those with 
which we regard a beautiful character. We are awed alike 
by grandeur of scenery and by grandeur of soul. The same 
harmony between ourselves and our ideal is felt in each 
case alike. We perceive at once the duality and the unity 
of the creation. It is true that the false education, that 
would deprive the physical creation of its supreme quality 
in the moral element, would hide this unity from our sight. 
The mind that sees God in his works will, however, dis- 
cover the manifestation of moral excellence to be supreme- 
ly made in the landscape. 

There can be no doubt tliat the delight with which spirit- 
ual as well as physical beauty is regarded by us proceeds 
from a similar recognition. But what is it that we so 
spontaneously recognize ? What is it that, in each of these 
two classes of objects alike, awakens within us emotions 
of pleasure, proportionate to our ability to form such re- 
cognition ? There must be a reason, in some quality that 
is common to both physical and spiritual beauty, wh}^ any 
created thing or being should have power to awaken these 
pleasing emotions in our minds, and so should appear to 
us beautiful. This common quality is found in fitness for 
beneficent uses. 

The fact that in a moral being fitness for beneficent uses 
is the quality the recognition of which gives pleasure to us, 
just in the degree that we possess this fitness ourselves, is 
shown quite conclusively, when we consider the opposite 
of this fitness, or fitness for injurious and destructive pur- 
poses. The latter is the fitness in the contemplation of 
which the completely abnormal or depraved mind rejoices. 
This is the fitness with which such a mind is in harmony. 
This awakens sensations of pleasure in such a nature. 
This is what appears beautiful to it. This was the mutual 
fitness that caused Fagan to be regarded with admiration 
by his pupils in crime. 

Here we have shown to us a law of our nature. We 
derive pleasure from seeing in others our own likeness, 
or our ideal. We feel a harmony existing between our- 
selves and that in another which represents either wb^t 



196 

we are conscious that we are, or that which we would be. 
Towards this, whatever it may be, we are attracted, and 
are repelled from its opposite. The one is contemplated 
by us with delight. The other we regard with aversion. 

So it is always to be observed, that it is only in the de- 
gree in which the spirit is itself beautiful, fit for benefi- 
cent uses, or in which it feels a longing to become so, that 
it can derive pleasure from the contemplation of either a 
bsautiful character, or the beauties of nature. Otherwise 
the spirit must be in a greater or lesser degree insensible 
to natural loveliness, and must regard a lovely character 
with feelings that range from indifference, through all 
degrees of aversion, to hatred, according to the degree of 
antagonism between its own nature and the nature that 
it observes. The sight of perfect beauty of spirit was once 
seen on the earth. It aroused in malignant natures feel- 
ings that could be satisfied only by its destruction. 

This law also manifests itself in another manner, which 
has already been dwelt upon in a previous paper. This 
is the strong tendency of every mind to see in 
others its own likeness or ideal whether this be 
good or bad. Whatever character ma}^ be presented to us, 
the image that, in advance of evidence or experience, 
and to a surprising degree in spite of evidence and exper- 
ience, we form in our minds, and take to represent the 
reality, is our own conscious spiritual likeness. We thus 
naturally expect and assume that others will be governed 
in their conduct by the same motives that we knew would 
determine our own, that under the same circumstances 
they will do that, which we know that we would do our- 
selves. 

On the one hand, the innocent, the generous, the true 
spontaneously regard all others as being like themselves. 
' ' To the pure, all things are pure. " " I do not think, " said 
Desdemona, ^' there is any such woman." It is hard to 
destroy this illusion, and the trust that attends it. When 
these are broken their loss brings grief to the spirit. 

On the other hand, those who are in any respect or de- 
gree depraved see everywhere in humanity the reflection 
of their own natures. They believe all men to be in heart 
like themselves. All apparent excellence they look upon 



197 

as hyprocrisy. It is not ordinarily possible for one who 
is himself governed by selfish or degrading motives to 
believe that the conduct of any one else can be controlled 
by exalted and self-denying principles. 

'' Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile." 

" And when Joseph's brethren saw that their father 
was dead, they said, Joseph will peradventure hate us, and 
will certainly requite us all the evil tJiat we did unto 
him." 

I have ventured here to return to this subject, and dwell 
upon it again, on account of its singular importance in 
this connection. It exhibits the law of all spiritual per- 
ception. It shows the manner in which we recognize all 
spiritual realities. Beauty is wholly spiritual. Beauty in 
nature is the expression of the beauty of the divine con- 
duct. It is the expression of the beauty of the divine 
spirit. Our recognition of the moral quality of beauty, of 
its true nature, is possible only in the degree in which we 
are ourselves in harmony with that nature. Our ability 
to recognize beauty at all, to derive any degree of pleasure 
from its contemplation, whether in nature or in human 
character and conduct, depends wholly upon the fitness of 
our own natures for beneficent uses in the development of 
their lovely capabilities. We can see without only that 
which we feel, and that which we are, within. For the 
perception of beauty, whether seen in the conduct of God 
or in the conduct of men, whether revealing the infinite 
love of God, or the development of the same love in the 
human soul, whatsoever is just, whatsoever is pure, what- 
soever is true, whatsoever is lovely, in our own natures, 
must cooperate in the recognition. 

We now look again upon the physical creation as our 
educator. We behold the ministry of beauty. We get a 
completer sense of the great use of all the harmonious 
influences by which we are surrounded. We see the su- 
preme beneficent purpose which these are adapted to pro- 
mote. By all means, in cooperative and ceaseless activ- 
ity, the nature of man is to be transformed. It is to be 
changed from all that is hateful to all that is lovely. For 
this purpose, who can measure the influence of our envi- 
ronment of beauty ? 



198 

The primary end of beauty, in its infinite manifestation 
in nature, is not to give delight to the spirit of man. This 
dehght is indeed necessary, just in the degree in which 
the human spirit is in harmony with beauty. But prece- 
dent to tliis, beauty has an ofhce to perform. This office 
is, to aid, gradually, insensibly, in bringing the nature of 
man into harmony with all perfection, into fitness for its 
own highest use. In beauty we have another spiritual 
reality, another manifestation of the Infinite Being, of 
whom it is written that '' strength and beauty are in His 
sanctuary," a term by which the universe is understood to 
be meant, and another means by the influence of w^hich 
man shall ultimately be made a partaker of the nature of 
God. 

We have now seen the cooperation of force^ truth, 
love and beauty in this supreme beneficent work, but for 
this work all these influences are not sufficient. The task 
is too great. More, very much more, is needed even than 
these. 



199 



SUFFERING. 



The Bible is true. It harmonizes with nature at every 
point. We have now arrived at the supreme exhibition 
of this harmony. We find it to exist in a two-fold respect. 

First. — The Bible declares the purpose of God with re- 
spect to man to be his restoration to a state of holiness. 
In its own wonderful language, language such as no man 
who could form the conception would dare to employ, it 
declares it to be the purpose of God that man should be- 
come the partaker of his own nature. This result is the 
supreme end of revelation as made to us in the Bible. It 
is also the supreme end of revelation as made to us in 
nature. The same infinitely beneficent purpose animates 
both. Every influence in nature is ceaselessly exerted to 
bring man into harmony with God. This is also the de- 
clared purpose of the teaching and motive to the death of 
the Christ. Deep and precious spiritual verities interpen- 
etrate all the forms of the physical creation. These are 
also the things with which the Bible is filled. They who 
penetrate most deeply into either come at last to the same 
animating force — the infinite love of God. On this point, 
of the purpose of God with respect to man, the harmony 
between nature and the Bible is strikingly obvious. But 
this harmony extends further than this. 

Second. — Nature and the Bible are in accord with re- 
spect to the means by which this purpose is to be effected. 

In nature all results are found to be brought about by 
the concurring action of independent agencies, operating 
together in harmony. Whenever these results involve a 
change of condition of a general nature they are reached 
by slow degrees. While the agencies employed are in 
ceaseless activity, the changes consequent on their action 
advance by gradual, often by insensible, steps. This is the 
law of all progress, or of development and growth. But 
all intended results are ultimately accomplished. Every 



200 

necessary means is always employed. Every appropriate 
agency is performing its appointed part. As already re- 
marked, in nature nothing is useless, and nothing is want- 
ing. This is the case throughout the physical creation, 
and it is especially to be seen in the multiplied relations 
that this creation bears to man, This law, of the hai:mo- 
nious cooperation of different agencies, and of their united 
efficiency and sufficiency for their purpose, is shown in its 
highest manifestation, in its application to the most re- 
markable of all changes, namely, the change in the spir- 
itual condition or nature of the human race. 

No change ought to interest the philosopher so deeply 
as this. It is one of a completely radical character. It 
affects the very spring of all human activity. It is a 
transformation of man, from a being wholly false to a 
being wholly true ; from a being wholly hateful to a being 
wholly lovely ; from a being wholly selfish to a being 
wholly self-sacrificing ; from a being wholly vindictive to 
a being wholly forgiving— in short, from a being in a state 
of complete antagonism with the nature of God to a being 
in complete harmony with that nature, a partaker of it. 
It is a change so total, that it could be expressed by the 
Christ only under the tremendous figure of being born 
again. We observe this change in . its progress, and are 
ourselves the subjects of it. All human beings are more 
or less affected by it. Probably none remain absolutely in 
the former state, as none can attain to the latter. One 
effect of it is seen in the spontaneous impulse moving 
those who are most advanced to help on those who are less 
so. 

This is the change that the Bible, giving verbal expres- 
sion to the teaching of nature, declares to be the supreme 
purpose of God with respect to man ; and concerning the 
means for the accomplishment of which purpose we are 
to see again the Bible and nature in accord with each 
other. The Bible calls upon men to observe the exhibition 
of the truth and love of God in the endlessly varied forms 
of its manifestation, and to conform both his conduct and 
the motives of his conduct to the perfect pattern thus set 
before him. It does far more than this. It recognizes the 
fact that these alone are not sufficient. Another agency, 



201 

acting in harmony with these, but of a more compelling 
nature, must supplement their influence. This last is nec- 
essary, indeed, in order that the former shall even be per- 
ceived, and their power be felt at all. This supremely 
efficient agency is suffering, in its two forms of vicarious 
and personal suffering. The Bible declares this to be the 
supreme and the finally efficient agency, through which 
this infinitely beneficent purpose of God is to be accom- 
plished. 

This is the key that unlocks the mystery of human suf- 
fering, mystery only to those who will not learn. Here 
the facts in nature with which the Bible is in harmony, 
are necessarily the facts of human experience. Man is 
the sufferer. And the accordant teaching of the Bible 
and of human experience is this, that mankind receive all 
their blessings, this highest of all first ; and second, those 
subordinate benefits that in their own fruition tend to 
promote this chief good, as the result of the sufferings of 
others, and are made capable of receiving them by suffer- 
ings endured either by the individual himself, or by 
those from whom he has inherited his disposition. Thus 
human suffering is seen to be the chief means of good, 
and moreover to be the means, without which all other 
means would in this supreme sense be of no avail. It 
must then be regarded as the crowning manifestation of 
the love of God to men. No one can make a comprehen- 
sive study of the subject without being driven to this con- 
clusion. 

The world is full of suffering, both real and imaginary. 
Religion, the religion of nature and the Bible, utterly dis- 
sipates the latter, and makes of the former the means of 
the highest good. It also enables the spirit to recognize 
suffering, whatever the form in which it may appear, in 
its true character. Religion thus ffils the soul with light 
and gladness, and this wholly irrespective of worldly con- 
dition. Indeed, the most remarkable examples of spirit- 
ual joy are to be found under circumstances where appar- 
ently the conditions of existence are imfavorable in the 
most extreme degree. 

Nothing is more amazing than to observe how many of 
our distresses are of our own manufacture. 



20^ 

It seema to be a common impulse of mankind to pay- 
little regard to their benefits, or even to overlook them en- 
tirely, and to fix their attention upon those things from 
which they can extract misery. Multitudes voluntarily 
endure more or less suffering, from v^hich minds in a 
healthy state would be free, and deprive themselves of 
habitual gladness that such minds enjoy. This abnormal 
and morbid state or habit of mind accounts for the wide 
acceptance that the absurd views of pessimism have re- 
ceived. 

I once heard of an incident that well illustrates this com- 
mon perversion. A gentleman who was possessed of enor- 
mous wealth, the accumulation of his own lifetime, was 
called upon by a person well known to him, and who was 
entitled to his confidence, ^ho solicited him to subscribe a 
small sum to a local object. When the matter had been 
laid before him, he replied with a look of severity: '' If 
you knew my condition, sir, I would be the last person 
you would think of applying to for a contribution to this 
or to any other object." Amazed, and wondering what 
catastrophe could have befallen, the visitor began to apol- 
ogize for his unseasonable intrusion, when the gentleman 
interrupted him, and continued: "Do you know, sir, 
that, by the reduction in the rate of interest in this State, 
from seven to six per cent., I have lost, in the last year, 
the sum of more than sixteen thousand dollars!" 

This loss had been uppermost in this poor man's mind. 
It had given him constant distress. The mighty inflow of 
his revenues was all nothing. Like the sun-light, that was 
a matter of course. It afforded him no pleasure. He was 
tormented by this inevitable annual loss. To repeat a 
felicitous simile from Charles Lamb, this was Mordecai in 
the gate. So deep was the impression made upon his own 
mind by what he looked upon as this legislative robbery, 
that it seemed to him that it must impress others in the 
same way. He actually supposed that his visitor would 
not only see the necessity for his refusal, but would share 
in the sympathy that he felt for himself. 

Perhaps we will not be so much surprised at such a per- 
version of all right views, if we reflect for a moment on 
the fact that, in one degree or another, every one does 



precisely the same thing. The mighty stream of common 
blessings, the flow of which never ceases for an instant, 
and in comparison with which any income from wealth is 
nothing, is only feebly appreciated by any, while on the 
great mass of mankind it makes little or no impression. 
Most persons never think of it. But any interruption of 
its current, no matter how slight, let this occur, then they 
bewail their fate, they feel as if they had been unjustly 
treated, had been deprived of that which of right belonged 
to them, and they look for the sympathy of men. Thus 
multitudes manage to spend their days in darkness and 
distress, where to the healthy spirit all would be light and 
joy. 

So much for our imaginary woes, the sorrows of our 
own creation, the offspring of our own darkened and per- 
verted spirits. But every heart has its burden of real suf- 
fering, and death, in some unknown one of its innumer- 
able forms awaits every one. These are facts that con- 
front us. 

In reflecting upon these two facts, w^e are obliged, in 
the first place, to say that they must be consistent with 
the supreme controlling fact of the universal and change- 
less love of God. Eeasoning from the facts already ob- 
served, we are compelled to the conclusion that the same 
motive determines these that determine all the other con- 
duct of God. It must be that suffering and death are the 
modes in which infinite love manifest itself under the con- 
ditions that exist. Not only so, but it must be that these 
are the modes of expression of this love that are called for 
and necessary under these conditions. This is the a priori 
conclusion to which the mind that really believes in the 
existence of God is compelled to arrive. Here, indeed, it 
must be true that "things are not what they seem." 

The question may be asked by any one, how evil could 
have entered into the world, how it could have appeared 
within the government of God. This question may be 
asked by any one, but it cannot be answered by any one. 
This is an inscrutable mystery. No finite mind can fathom 
it. Dr. McCosh declares that he cannot explain it. We 
only know the fact that the dreadful picture of the natural 
state of man cannot be adequately drawn. These are the 



201 

actual conditions under which the love of God makes its 
supreme manifestation in the infliction of suffering and 
death. 

I do not wish to dwell upon this subject, which is so vast 
and with which in its innumerable phases every one is so 
famihar. Still less do I desire to enter upon the discussion 
of any of the questions that arise out of it. My only pur- 
pose is, in the briefest manner, to call attention to the 
fact, that human suffering is the necessary- expression of the 
love of God. being the supreme and indispensible means 
by which the beneficent purpose of God regarding man 
is accomplished ; and that the divine origin of the Bible is 
supremely shown by the fact that it declares this solution of 
the great mystery, the solution which all human experi- 
ence proves to be the true one. 

Vicarious suffering involves mysteries to us. as of course 
it must do. But we know that the entire inheritance of 
civilized men has been bought bv the suffering and death 
of those who have gone before us. There is no posses- 
sion that men to-day cherish and hold precious that has 
not been purchased for them with this price. These con- 
stitute the fundamental principles of society. We share 
in the possession of these fruits of the suffering that past 
generations of men have endured. 

Luxury and splendor have left us nothing that can oper- 
ate as a present personal boon to men, nothing. For all 
these things we are indebted to the sufferers who have 
lived and died for us. Among these, too, we find exam- 
ples of every virtue that we instinctively revere, and of 
the conduct which it is the highest inspiration of human- 
\Jd^ ity to itmt^tte. Above all, in wonderful harmony with 
^^ this law that all blessings for man must be purchased by 

suffering, the Saviour of men, expected as a conqueror, 
came as a sufferer, and obtained for mankind its supreme 
blessing by His death. 

Personal suffering is the means by which men are made 
wilHng to receive, or become capable of receiving in degree 
without end, the boon of the new nature which has thus 
been purchased for them. Thus violation of the law of 
love is made to work its own cure. In the parable of the 
prodigal son, it was the want and starvation consequent 



205 



on his wickedness that drove the prodigal back to his 
father's open arnis. ^^ Perfect through suffering," heard 
through the Bible as its grand undertone, swells at last 
into the overpowering note, in which all the harmonies of 
revelation become absorbed. 

With this agrees all human experience. No one has 
attained to any degree of true beauty of soul and loving 
harmony with God who does not recognize suffering as 
having been the supreme means by which this change of 
nature has been effected. 

It w^ould be foreign to my purpose to attempt to follow 
this subject further. Like all lines of thought, this one 
too leads to the hidden, the inscrutable, and the infinite. 
The conclusion thus far reached is one to which all shades 
of religious belief must assent. 



206 



FAITH, 



When we reflect upon the manifestations of the love of 
God which are presented to us everywhere in nature, we 
are especially impressed by two of its features, because 
of these we can most nearly form a conception. They are 
its universality and its persistency. The love of God, as 
revealed in nature, is without limit, or preference, or 
change. Mechanical science teaches this truth in an im- 
pressive manner. It is from this science that we derive 
all our knowledge, and form all our conceptions, of the 
changeless nature of the divine conduct. This enables us 
to comprehend, so far as we can comprehend it at all, the 
meaning of the language of the Bible on this subject. 

The reception of these truths, of the universal and the 
unvarying nature of the love of God, seems to have been, and 
even yet to be, the most difficult of all things for mankind 
to become capable of. It has involved a radical change 
in the dispositions of men, a change that apparently could 
be effected only in a manner almost inconceivably gradual. 
The process of this change, both in its duration and in its 
character, suggests the process in operation through geo- 
logic time, by which the void world of fire and rock be- 
came transformed into the fertile earth, clad in verdure 
and teeming with life, and the darkness produced by the 
boihng and down-pour of oceans gave place to the glory of 
the revealed heavens, and the changiug beauty of the 
skies. 

The small portion of the human family, in whose minds, 
as the result of a long series of teachings and judgments, 
the truth of one personal unseen God had finally become 
fixed, secure against the assaults of idolatry, held, with 
a degree of fanaticism difficult to be imagined, to the be- 
lief that this God was theirs alone, to the exclusion of the 
rest of mankind. The numerous distinct declarations to 
the contrary in their own sacred writings had no power to 
shake this conceit. The first recorded teaching of the 



207 

Christ was directed against it. This teaching consisted 
only in the recital of two familiar events in the Jewish 
history. But, for the very reason that the obvious deduc- 
tion from these events could not be avoided, the reference 
to them by the Christ exasperated His hearers to such a 
frenzv, that they dragged Him to the brow of the hill on 
which their city was built, to cast Him down headlong. 

In its inception, the Christian church was composed en- 
tirely of Jews. The converts to Christianity gave up their 
dream of the temporal dominion of their race, and accepted 
the Christ as a King whose kingdom was not of this 
world ; but that the good tidings of great joy should be to 
all people, that was more than Jewish jealousy could en- 
dure. So, as the gospel spread among the Gentiles, the 
Jews became united in rejecting it. Since then they have 
listened, in their synagogues every Sabbath day, to the 
reading of the Sciiptures, in which are contained 
such expressions as this : "It is a light thing that thou 
shouldest be my servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob, 
and to restore the preserved of Israel; I will also give thee 
for a light to the Gentiles, that thou may est be my salva- 
tion unto the end of the earth ;" and they have waited, 
all the same, through nineteen centuries, and are waiting 
still, for their exclusive Messiah, who shall restore the 
kingdom to Israel. 

The taming of human ferocity, and the weakening of the 
spirit of exclusiveness, neither of which were by any 
means confined to the Jewish race, have advanced by such 
gradual steps, that their progress can be observed only by 
comparing the state of society at periods separated by long 
intervals of time ; and often it has seemed as if humanity 
had actually retrograded. In the church of the middle ages 
the unbaptized came to take the place, that in the Jewish 
mind was held by the uncircumcised, of the hated of God. 
So lately as the sixteenth century, William of Orange was, 
perhaps, the only man in Europe, who seemed to realize 
that it was not the duty of the dominant religious sect, 
whatever that sect might be, to use its power for the 
punishment of disbelievers in its creed. The best of men 
in their turns exercised the very intolerance against 
which their own lives were a protest. They knew not what 



208 

spirit they were of. But it was the spirit of their age. 
This fact ought to be taken into consideration in judging 
of their conduct. We have no right to arraign them for 
having then fallen short of a standard, that is too high 
for all but a few even in our own time. 

Confining our view now to the Protestant Church, we ob- 
serve that the same exclusive disposition, in modified forms 
of expression, has produced the Calvanistic doctrine of a 
limited atonement, now happily in a laree degree outgrown, 
has attached especial importance, and given especial 
prominence and perversion of meaning to the doctrine of 
election, and has appeared feeble and ludicrous in " the 
uncovenanted mercies" which used to be vouchsafed by the 
charity of the churchmen to those outside of their fold. 
Harmless traces of the same spirit of exclusiveness still 
longer among sects of Christians, who have grovv^n to such 
a catholic spirit, that the only thing they cannot tolerate 
is the idea of toleration. 

When we turn to the Roman Church, common sense, to 
say nothing of humanity, stands aghast at hearing eternal 
damnation denounced against whomsoever may dare, not 
only to deny the spiritual supremacy of the Pope, but 
also to oppose his claims to any temporal possession, and 
even to resist the despotism of a parish priest. How long, 
Lord, must the earth continue to witness this awful 
farce ! As if the God, whose nature we are feebly endeavor- 
ing to contemplate, could have committed the eternal state 
of even a single soul to the caprice of vindictive men. And 
to think of this pretended power being used for the en- 
slavement of the human conscience. 

In spite of revelation, men have found many ways of 
creating imaginary Gods after their own image. This was 
especially true in the Christian Church in the centuries 
preceding the cultivation of physical science. The ^g-l- 
ogies of a judge and of a king, pressed far beyond^Eiiy 
warrant afforded in the Bible, have been made especially 
fruitful in absurdities. The familiar examples of these 
human potentates, with the well known characters of those 
who were most prominent in history, the methods and the 
mediums of approach to them, the capriciousness 
of their conduct, and the uncertainty of the result 



209 

in cases of appeal to them, all these associations have 
exercised a most perincious influence on the habit of 
religious thought. Traces of this influence still appear 
even among the most enlightened Christain communions, 
while elsewhere these human analogies now hold mil- 
lions of professed Christains in practical idolatry. 

But of greater power, to blind the human mind to the 
true conception of God, than even man's exclusiveness 
and intolerance, and misleading human analogies, have 
been the deep and lasting impressions that have been left 
upon the Church by Paganism. From Paganism the 
church has, among other things, derived the priest and 
the sacrifice, which is a remnant, not of Hebrew, but of 
pagan rites, the queen of heaven, the canonization or semi- 
deification of men, the ideas of informing and of appeas- 
ing an absent and angry God, and the doctrine of purga- 
tory. On this last suggestion the church seems to have 
improved. The schoolboy reads the original fable in his 
Virgil, but we do not learn that the priests of Jupiter ever 
thought of the stupendous account to which it could be 
turned. 

But above all, the church received from heathen an- 
tiquity the dogmas, that ignorance is the mother of devo- 
tion, and that reason and faith are antagonistic to each other. 
In their original application these dogmas were perfectly 
true. There could be no reconciliation between the phi- 
losophy of Greece, in the ages of its maturity, and the 
system of classic mythology. The philosophers then real- 
ized, perhaps as clearly as we do now, that the deities, 
who received the adoration of the vulgar, whose worship 
was woven into the fabrics of their domestic and social 
and political life, in whose temples and images art gave 
expressions to its loftiest conceptions, the stories of whose 
births and deeds constituted the chief intellectual posses- 
sion of the multitude, and the imposing ritual of whose 
service awed and held captive their imaginations, were all 
airy nothings, who from the poet's pen had received their 
''names and habitations." So when philosophy and Pa- 
ganism met in the same communities, nothing could be 
more true than were these two dogmas. Ignorance was 



210 

the mother of devotion, and between reason and creduHty, 
miscalled faith, there was complete antagonism. 

As the Christian Church degenerated into a mighty- 
system of imposture, with which it combined a system of 
extortion that paganism never knew, it naturally accepted 
and made full practical use of this legacy, the endurance 
of which has seemed to be one of the phenomena of his- 
tory. The fact is, these maxims of Paganism have en- 
dured, and still endure, because they are true in their 
application to all human substitutes for true religion. 
While the latter demands the exercise of the highest in- 
telligence, every form of the human counterfeit shuns its 
searching light. Moreover, the merely traditionary in- 
fluence of those dogmas, especially of that one w^hich 
declares an antagonism between reason and faith, is felt 
universally even to this day; and that in a degree that 
ilhistrates how difficult a thing it is for the mind to shake 
off the chains of a falsehood that bears the stamp of age 
upon it. This dogma still exercises an insidious power, 
even where religion has been most cleansed from man's 
defilement, and over minds by whom the naked proposi- 
tion, in its terms, would be instantly rejected. 

But 0, my friend, let us get away from these exhibi- 
tions of human infirmity, and cast off from our spirits 
the spell of their misleading and contracting and degrad- 
ing influences, and come forth into the presence of the 
God of all revelation. So far, too, as we may, let us rise 
above the effects of familarity with the amazing exhibi- 
tions of his love, and behold this love as, universal and 
changeless, it enfolds us on every side. Let us lift our 
eyes to to the heavens, where the Almighty has written 
his name, and see the sun forever shining in his strength, 
not with partial glory, but to quicken into life and glad- 
ness alike each individual being, to reveal alike every 
object, to penetrate every eye. Let us look upon the 
earth, that cannot forget one grain of sand. And as we 
behold this glory and realize this care, and as we feel 
the animating breath of the universal air, let us receive 
into our minds the great truth, that everything was in- 
tended to promote the growth, and to encourage the exer- 
cise, of faith toward God in the soul of man. 



211 

This faith can, of course, have no existence, where 
there is no perception of God in his works. Where the 
unmeaning expression, ^'the uniform course and constitu- 
tion of nature," rises hke a wall before the sight, and 
the spirit feels no impulse to penetrate beyond this 
senseless jargon, beyond which all truth in reality hes, 
nothing but darkness is possible. But to the illumined 
spirit, that sees in all the activities of nature the eternal 
faithfulness of the infinite Father, the unvarying activity 
of his love, that reahzes how, in its utter helplessness, it is 
every moment carried in his arms, and folded to his 
bosom, that feels the rapture of conscious participation in 
his affection, to such a spirit faith is the natural and 
necessary state. 

In the perception of the changeless nature of the 
universal and infinite love of God we find the real and 
only ground of faith. It is obvious, that faith foUows 
necessarily from this perception, and must exist in the 
soul just in the degree in which the perception itself be- 
comes clear and distinct. The two are inseparable. Faith 
cannot exist where the love is not perceived, and it cannot 
be wanting where it is perceived. It must co-exist with 
the apprehension of tbis love, just according to the degree 
of its apprehension. 

We conclude, therefore, that ''reason*' and faith must 
harmonize just in the degree that " reason " has the facts 
presented in consciousness ; all of which facts are necessary 
in order that '* the reason *' shall arrive at a correct conclu- 
sion. The harmony between ''reason" and faith must 
become more complete as the spiritual comprehension 
grows larger, and as the images that are formed in cons- 
ciousness by the highest modes of our spiritual activity 
became more distinct. 

As this symmetrical intellectual and emotional develop- 
ment of our nature goes on, we must perceive more and 
more clearly the analogies with which the creation is filled, 
that illustrate the relation of the soul of man to God. 
Everything tells us, with continually more clear and de- 
lightful voice, the everlasting story of our Father's love. 
As we know that the earth will not fly away and leave us 
desolate in space, so we know that nothing can ever sepa- 



21B 

rate us from the TnfJTiite Beiiig,between whom and us ex- 
ists the attraction of love. 

Two resahs follow from the development of fsdth ; or 
rather, tvro things attend this development and grow in 
d^ree with it. The first of these is the perception or 
realization of the trath, that the state of harmony with the 
natnre of Gk)d is the only real good, and the w^ant of this 
harmony is the only real evil ; that all other seeming good 
or in is really so, and is to he desired or to he dreaded, 
only as it wfll promote, or will hinder the attainment of 
this state of harmony, which hecomes the object of sa- 
preme and exclnsive longing, jnst in the d^ree that the 
spuit has already attained to it. The indi vidual of nec-essity 
in the same degree rises superior to the vicissitudes of 
time. External condition? have less and less po^B^er to 
affect his repose. Z ^es able even to glory in tribu- 

lation. He knows thai niaLs and distresses are the crown- 
ing assurance of the love of the Father^ who by these 
means draws the soul more closely to himself. 

The second result is intimately connected with the first. 
The spirit has found the source of joy. There is no pes- 
simism now. no repinings seek for expression now. The 
spirit sees in all around it the reflection of its own g^dness. 
It rejoio=^ in the realization of the truth that this is a good 
world, that it is the very best world that Almighty Gwood- 
ness could make, that everything in the earth and the 
heavens is intended to minister to tmiversal gladness, that 
the normal, healthy state of every being is a state of, joy. 
The spirit rejoices especially in all the influences which 
tend to enlarge its jKiwers and capabilities, and quicken it 
into every form of healthy activity. It rejoices in every- 
thing that helps it to form the grand conception of the 
universal and necessary nature of the truth and love of 
God, that infinite and changeless reality, of which the 
whole nature of things is the mighty manifestation. 

Let us turn again to the Bible. Is this book in harmony 
with natm^ here ? Yes, emphatically yes. This depend- 
ence, this care, this trust, this joy, the Bible is lumincus 
with all these. In these respects, also, the Bible appears as 
the verbal expression of the truth that exists in the nature 
of things. About this expression it is also to be observed. 



213 

that it is not such an expression as could be made by any- 
finite mind. It transcends the degree of our comprehension 
of these truths. It is of a nature to raise the mind 
gradually to a fuller and fuller apprehension of them ; and 
that apprehension that is the deepest and the fullest finds 
the language of the Bible satisfying, and more than satis- 
fying. This language is still stimulating. It conveys to 
the mind as this becomes capable of receiving it, a sense of 
a degree of care and trust and joy to which there is no 
limit. This is especially true of the words of the Christ. 
When we reflect upon the character of the expressions 
that are employed by the Christ for the presentation and 
illustration of these themes, we cannot fail to perceive that 
the language applies to realities that are infinite in their 
nature, and that these realities are completely apprehended 
by the mind from w^hich the language proceeds. 



214 



PRAYER. 



I should not have presumed to touch this high theme if 
it had not appeared to me that the true view of the nature 
and office of prayer grew directly out of the preceding line 
of thought ; and that, therefore, the presentation of such 
a view in this connection would tend to remove doubts re- 
specting the efficacy of prayer which exist in minds to 
whom these papers are especially addressed. These doubts 
have been encouraged by criticism from high scientific au- 
thority, criticism that was imagined to be based on scien- 
tific grounds, but which, in reality, proceeded from an en- 
tire misconception of the subject. 

The question is a common one : '^ How is prayer to God 
to bo reconciled with the idea of his changeless nature ?" 
" If the purposes of God move on eternally to their accom- 
plishment, Hke the earth in its orbit, how are these pur- 
poses to be modified or the events to be affected, in the least 
degree, by prayer ?" 

This question is not to be answered directly, but it dis- 
appears, as a reasonable expression, as soon as we have 
got a correct idea of the nature of prayer. 

The common idea of prayer, and the idea which gives ap- 
parent point to the above question, has been in a large degree 
derived from human analogies, which here, as everywhere 
else, are inadequate and misleading. A petition addressed 
to an earthly potentate or tribunal or parent is always de- 
signed to influence the party addressed. It is intended, 
first, to aft'ord to this party information that he did not 
before possess, and, second, to incline his mind favorably 
towards some object, from a previous state of indifference, 
or from a contrary inclination. The design of the petition 
is always to induce the party to whom it is addressed to 
form or to change a purpose, and the result of the applica- 
tion is always uncertain. All these notions, derived fiom 
these human analogies, underlie, and contribute more or 
less to influence or to form, the common idea of prayer to 



S15 

God, so far as this idea has any definiteness in the 
mind. It may be added that this idea of prayer is natur- 
ally formed by minds which have no experimental knowl- 
ledge of its true nature. Moreover, such minds may often 
be disposed to insist on this conception as being the only 
one possible to be imagined, as it is the only one that they 
themselves can form. The true nature of prayer is, how- 
ever, very far removed from any such conceptions. 

Prayer is the highest form of cooperative action re- 
quired on the part of man. It is the cooperative action 
on his part upon which the reception by him of the high- 
est good has been made dependent. In preceding papers it 
has been shown that our own cooperation, to the full ex- 
tent of our ability, is essential to the obtaining by us of 
any good whatever. It was shown that there are various 
modes of this cooperation, that these modes of necessity 
differ according to the nature of the benefit that is sought, 
but that in all cases alike the faithful putting forth of our 
own cooperative effort is the condition upon which we re- 
ceive the benefit. We observed that in each case there is 
comparatively little of the work that had to be done that 
we have been made capable of doing, that the doing of 
that little requires the exertion of our utmost efforts, and 
that it must always be done by us. 

We are not to inquire why this is so. Our observation 
and our conscious experience both teach us the fact that 
the requirement is a universal one. We cannot imagine 
an exception to it. Our own cooperative effort is always 
necessary, and, other things being equal, w^e receive every- 
thing in a degree that is proportionate to the earnestness 
and fidelity with which we do our part. 

Now the highest possible good of every human being is 
not anything of an external or of a temporary character, 
neither does such highest good consist in knowledge or in 
intellectual power. The supreme benefit that can be con- 
ferred upon any individual is the transformation of his 
nature. The object that is supremely to be desired by 
every rational being is, that his own nature shall be 
brought into a state of harmony with the nature of God, 
or, in the stronger and deeper language of the Bible, that 
he shall be made a ''partaker of the divine nature." 



1 



216 

It cannot be conceived that in the case of this supreme 
good an exception should exist to the otherwise universal 
law, that man should have this blessing alone thrust upon 
him without any cooperative act on his part. Xeither can 
it be conceived that, while in all other cases the receptive 
state of our being is an active state, in this case only it is 
a passive one. In some way, then, man must actively 
cooperate in the work of receiving this blessing. There 
must be something that he can do, and that he must do, 
with all the energy of his nature. There is only one thing 
that he can do. 

This is to pray. When an individual recognizes at once 
his need and his helplessness, in this supreme respect of 
the radical and complete transformation of his nature, he 
intuitively cries out : '' Create in me a clean heart, 
Lord.'' Just in the degree in which an individual per- 
ceives this need and this helplessness, in which their 
reality is disclosed to him, just in that degree, of necessity, 
will his supplication be earnest and persevering. Thus it 
has been with sincere men in all ages and among all 
people, according to the light that each one has possessed. 
It is affecting to read the prayer of Socrates as recorded by 
Plato : '' Pan," (that is the All, nature,) " and aU the 
other divinities whom we adore in this place, give me in- 
most beauty of soul. "' 

The fact must be stated again, that the only thing 
which man can do towards obtaining this supreme good, 
is to make this supplication. This is the form, and it is 
the only form, of cooperative effort, that is demanded 
from man, as the condition on which alone he can receive 
this gift, between which and all inferior gifts there can be 
no comparison. Prayer is the mode of effort that is 
adajDted to the nature of the purely spiritual good that is 
sought by it ; precisely as labor and study are the modes 
of effort that are adapted to the various forms of inferior 
good that are sought by them. 

Between all these modes of effort there exists a likeness, 
that may not be perceived at first. Both labor and study 
are the practical modes of asking for the benefits that are 
obtained by those means respectively. In employing 
them, we express our desire for those benefits in the only 



217 

practical way, namely, by putting our minds into a re- 
ceptive condition, and making use of the obvious means 
for obtaining them. So also in prayer, man puts his mind 
into the only condition in which it is capable of receiving 
this spiritual good, and employs the only and obvious 
means of obtaining it. By the obvious means is meant 
the means that suggests itself to the mind that is filled 
with the desire after holiness, as naturally and necessarily 
as the suitable means for obtaining any forms of inferior 
good suggest themselves to the mind that is filled with a 
desire after them. So labor and study and prayer are the 
practical expressions of these different desires, in modes 
adapted to the nature of each one. 

But the objector may say: '' Still, prayer is an effort to 
change a result, that, from all eternity, has been fixed in 
the purpose of God." 

The reply to this objection, which at once exposes its 
superficial nature, and reveals the fact that it is founded 
upon our own ignorance and limited power of thought, is 
this : The objection lies equally against every other form 
of cooperative effort on the part of man, or, against all 
human activity whatever. 

It is true respecting this spiritual benefit, and equally 
true respecting all other benefits, that they are alike of 
necessity fixed in the eternal purpose, and that at the same 
time they are made dependant on our own exertions. But 
men do not raise this difficulty in other cases. They are 
not at all troubled about the fact that if they do not sow 
they will not reap, if they do not observe and study they 
will not learn, or if they do not put forth the adequate 
effort they will not accomplish any result whatever. They 
never think of inquiring what the fixed purpose of God 
may be in these respects, or of looking upon their exer- 
tions as attempts to change the divine purpose. In all 
these cases men inquire only what there is for them to do, 
and they gird up their loins, and apply themselves in earn- 
est to do it. So we have no more right, and it is no more 
natural to sincere men, to be troubled about the depend- 
ence of spiritual blessing upon the employment by us of 
the means of prayer. 

The observation is a familiar one, and is applicable to 



218 



our work and study and prayer alike, that the means must 
be ordained just as absolutely as the result. "We can, how- 
ever, hardly pretend to explain the mystery in which the 
whole subject is involved, and which is only one of the 
wilderness of mysteries in which we have our being. It 
is very certain, however, that such questions should give 
us no more concern, and should have no more effect 
upon our action, in the case of prayer, than they should 
respecting any other form of our mental or physical ac- 
tivity. 

A special objection is often urged against prayer, which 
is, that no connection can be perceived by us between 
prayer and the answer to it, as there can be between labor 
or study and their results. The inference that the objector 
would like to have drawn is, that because such connection 
cannot be perceived by us, therefore such connection can- 
not exist. In a former paper attention has been called to 
the major promise of the syllogism, from which such a 
conclusion would follow. 

In truth, however, when we attempt to enter upon the 
subject of the relation between cause and effect, we at 
once find ourselves beyond our depth. We know nothing 
beyond uniformly observed sequences. The nature of the 
connection between the precedent and the consequent act 
is hidden from us in all cases alike. A familiar illustra- 
tion may make this limitation of our knowledge more ob- 
vious. In crossing the bay, one looks upon a vessel that 
is being towed by means of a line, and then at the moon. 
He observes that he can see what compels the vessel to 
follow the tug, but cannot see what holds the moon to the 
earth. One looking more deeply, however, will perceive 
that he cannot discover the compelling force any more in 
the one case than he can in the other. What we term the 
attraction of cohesion, by which the rope is held together, 
is in reality as much a mystery to us as the attraction of 
gravitation is. So also, and in a sense that is no more 
absolute, the sequence between prayer and its answer, as 
well as that which exists between labor and its reward, are 
both ahke among " the secret things " that " belong unto 
the Lord our God." 

Prayer is the real desire of the soul. Whatever in its 



219 

depths the soul longs for above all other things, that is 
the object of its prayer. When this longing of the soul 
is after the state of holiness, for itself, for others, for all 
mankind, then, just in the degree in which this desire 
takes possession of the soul, and all other objects are lost 
sight of in the realization of the incomparable value of 
this good, just in that degree does the soul become a 
co-worker with God in this supreme sense. 

The line of thought which has been followed seems 
necessarily to lead us to the conclusion that prayer is the 
natural and spontaneous act of the spirit to which God 
has in some degree been revealed, and that it is the 
mode of men's cooperation with God in the work of His 
own restoration to a state of holiness ; that supreme 
work to which all man's environment of force and truth 
and love and beauty in the physical creation is designed 
to contribute, as its ultimate purpose, that work for 
which the supreme manifestation of infinite love in the 
great mystery of the crucified Christ was given, and 
finally that work which all human suffering, also, is 
adapted, and so evidently is designed to aid in accomplish- 
ing. 

Let us now turn to the teaching of the Bible on this 
subject. Here, as everywhere, we shall find the Bible 
to harmonize with and to complete the teachings of na- 
ture. The Bible gives to this teaching distinct expres- 
sion. It is its audible voice. In the Bible this natural 
command to the cooperative activity of prayer, like all 
other natural commands, finds living and adequate utter- 
ance. 

For our first illustration we turn to tlie Lord's prayer, 
which is the only form of petition that was taught and en- 
joined by the Christ. Here the following features are first 
to be noted. This prayer is to be addressed by every indi- 
vidual directly to God. No supplication is to be made to 
any other being, not even to the Christ, as distinct from 
the Father. All intermediate aid is. excluded. No crea- 
ture is to come between the soul and its Father in Heaven. 
The very ideas of representation, or of the removal of God to 
a distance from the individual suppliant, would seem to be 
made impossible. Instead of all this, the language of this 



220 

prayer assumes the fact that, everywhere and at all times 
each individual soul is already and continually in the 
immediate presence of God. In all these things we re- 
cognize what we know to be the truth with respect to 
the God of nature. 

We come now to the prayer itself. That which is the 
supreme object of desire naturally rises first of all for ex- 
pression, and is longest dwelt upon. So, after the fond 
address, expressive of the endearing relations existing be- 
tween the soul and God, there comes first the prayer for 
the coming of God's kingdom, or, in other words, for the 
restoration of all mankind to the state of holiness. This 
petition is repeated three times, in words which, though 
very different, mean in reality the same thing. This three- 
fold repetition shows the earnestness with which the re- 
covered soul dwells upon this supreme object. 

While the accomplishment of this triune petition in- 
volves and depends wholly upon the restoration of man- 
kind to a sinless state, while this is the work, and the only 
w^ork, to be done in answer to these petitions, still in their 
form these petitions present the glory of God as the 
supreme object of desire, and do not, except by this neces- 
sary implication, refer to man at all. This, it is evident, 
is the form in which adoring love must of necessity frame 
its supplications. 

Besides that which is directly expressed in this three- 
fold prayer, there are implied in its language two things 
w^hich are of the deepest interest. The first of these is, 
that there exists now a state of being, in which the will of 
God is perfectly done, in which absolute harmony and 
unity with the divine nature prevails. The second is, 
since we cannot suppose that we have been taught to 
utter an idle petition, but rather one that nmst surely 
be fulfilled, that on the earth also, and in the same perfect 
degree, God's name shall be hallowed, his kingdom shall 
come, his will shall be done. 

From the great height of this comprehensive petition, 
the prayer now descends to the lowly supplication for 
personal mercies. It asks for nothing beyond immediate 
necessary provision, and expresses a sense of the absolute 
dependence, which is man's real condition. ' ^ Daily bread " 



221 

is an expression that, in the hght of all the teachings of 
the Christj it appears certain ought here to he taken in a 
spiritual sense. It is a part of that vivid fig-urative lan- 
guage, by the contemplation of which we may rise above 
earthly wants, even until we reach the mysteiy of the 
divine man, who declared, "I am the bread of life.'* 

Thus regarded, this petition is seen to be a repetition, in 
a personal sense, of the former general and comprehensive 
ones. 

The spiritual meaning of this petition is that to which 
the greatest importance is attached throughout the teach- 
ings of the Christ. This subject will be dwelt upon with 
more fulness directly. 

After this there follows the fearful petition with a con- 
dition. This condition was directly after explained and 
emphasized by the gTeat Teacher, with the assurance that 
in the very nature of things it is only the forgiving soul 
that can receive forgiveness. Here we discover again the 
operation of the law of hkeness. Just as the revelations 
of truth and love and beauty are possible only to truth 
and love and beauty, so forgiveness is possible only to 
forgiveness. We recognize another phase of the universal 
harmony that runs through the spiritual creation. 

The prayer then closes with a petition, likewise repeated 
in substance, for the spiritual watch and care of God. 

It is to be further observed respecting prayer, that 
in order to be effective it must be the habitual state 
of the mind. Precisely as in all our other forms of 
cooperative eft'ort, so also here, it is the long continued 
labor or application of prayer, that are alike demanded 
and rewarded. There must be in prayer the same 
fixed and habitual concentration of the whole being, 
that men who are capable of strong purpose exhibit 
with respect to anything whatever about which they are 
in downright earnest. And, indeed, prayer calls for this 
concentrated and persevering earnestness in the highe.st 
possible degree, as the object that is sought is of incon- 
ceivablv greater consequence than anv other object can 
be. 

This is illustrated in the prayer of Solomon for wisdom. 
The selection of this illustration may perhaps surprise the 
cursory reader of the Bible. Indeed the real character of 



222 

this prayer, in this respect, is generally misapprehended. 
So much is this the case, that the answer to the prayer of 
Solomon is often cited to show the imagined special and 
capricious action of God, in favoring whom he chooses, 
without being governed by a general principle. The 
erroneous and superficial nature of this view will at once 
appear. 

In considering this petition, w^e are struck with the fact, 
that when suddenly the command was addressed to Solo- 
mon: "Ask what I shall give thee," the answer of the 
youthful King was ready. There was no hesitation about 
its utterance. It was also single. He made but one re- 
quest. Although not limited in any way he asked for only 
one thing. He asked for wisdom and knowledge "to 
judge this thy so great people," and he ceased. 

Now when we reflect upon it, it is evident that this could 
not have been a desire suddenly formed, in its singleness 
and distinctness, and expressed on the spur of the moment. 
This must have been the ripened and absorbing longing, 
with which the whole being of Solomon w^as already filled, 
in order that it should rise thus spontaneously to his lips, 
and find clear and eloquent utterance, at the instant of 
demand. 

But we are not left to conjecture on this point. In three 
places the prayers of David for his son are recorded to the 
same effect, and one of these prayers is expressed in this 
very same language. The history is thus brought suffi- 
ciently before us. This had been the habitual petition for 
Solomon of his father before him. Solomon had listened 
to this petition from his infancy, and had made it his own. 
It had become the habitual state of his mind. When the 
responsibility of ruling was cast upon him, this longing for 
knowledge and wisdom from God became in the highest 
degree intensified. 

Then, when the instant of test came to Solomon, as it 
comes to all v/ithout a warning, when the work of years 
in the formation of character is to be shown in the act or 
decision of the moment, "ask what I shall give thee," 
there could be no struggle, nor any hesitation, because 
there was no other desire in his heart, except the life-long 
one that filled his whole being. 



223 

In addition to the Lord's Prayer, much of the teachings 
of the Christ relate to the subject of prayer. These in- 
structions are of the deepest significance. Our present 
view of them must be Hmited and general. 

In studying the words of the Christ, we find, among 
their many striking features, two with which we are now 
especially concerned. These are, their simphcity and, 
on appropriate occasions, their intensity. Eespecting the 
first of these features, it is to be observed among men, that 
when, as the result of deep and prolonged study, a person 
has become familiar with any particular subject, it is gen- 
erally the case that his statements and explanations of this 
subject become simple and direct, and this just in the de- 
gree of his familiarity with it. In this respect there is no 
human teaching, that can, in the most remote degree, be 
compared with the absolute simplicity and directness of 
the language, respecting the deepest truths, that was 
always employed by the Christ. 

But the language of the Christ frequently presents a start- 
ling boldness of imagery and an intensity of expression 
that is entirely unique. In this respect, also, it differs from 
all other recorded speech. As the parables of our Lord re- 
quired for their production, first, an absolute comprehen- 
sion of the spiritual truths that were to be illustrated, and 
second, an intimate knowledge of the duality of the 
creation, by which all common and familiar things are 
made adapted for the illustration of these truths, so in all 
the teachings of the Christ we perceive the same absolute 
knowledge of truth, and of the impossibility of its being 
compromised by admixture with the least degree of error. 
This demanded for its expression the ultimate and hitherto 
unknown power of language, language nothing hke which 
has ever been employed since, as indeed it never could be 
by a finite intelligence. 

In addition to these features we have everywhere, also, 
the form of authoritative declaration. The Christ never 
reasons. He assumes the office of declaring spiritual 
truth. This he does in language that is plain to the most 
simple understanding, and which, at the same time, is 
found by the thoughtful student to present depths of 



224 

meaning that are too profound for human plummet to 
sound. 

All these features characterize the utterances of the 
Christ on the subject of prayer. The great primaiy object 
of prayer is distinguished bv him with singular vividness. 
He commands men to ask in prayer for only one thing, as 
its sole appropriate object. He dwells principally upon 
negative instruction. Most of his teaching is directed 
to declaring what we are not to seek for in prayer. The 
full meaning of the language of the Christ, as this is given 
by different evangelists, is believed to be expressed as 
follows: 'Have no anxiety about your daily wants.' 'Be 
not concerned about your part of the universal bounty/ 
•' Be not tossed on the billows of care.' ''For,'' he adds, 
*^your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all 
these things.'' "Consider the lihes.*' '*' Shall he not much 
more clothe you ?" "Behold the fowls of the air/' " Ye 
are of more value than many sparrows.*' Who shall 
measure the meaning and the tenderness of the language 
of the Christ on this subject? Although its significance is 
only feebly apprehended, yet it reaches to the heart of the 
human race, and is cherished by mankind among their 
most precious treasures. 

It is to be observed that the importance of this instruc- 
tion, as to that for which we are not to ask, is emphasized 
by the Christ, by the repetition and fulness of illustration 
^ith whrch he dwells upon it. But there is one thing 
about which we are to be concerned. There is one thing 
which we are to seek, and that with all the earnest- 
ness of which we are capable. '' Seek ve the Kingdom of 
God." 

Concerning this kingdom, the Christ gave to mankind 
this command and promise: "Ask, and ye shall receive." 
This is among the simplest forms of speech, but how much 
does it contain ! Let us emphasize the first word, the 
command, ask. Xow we have presented to us the neces- 
sity of asking, as the condition of receiving this gift. 
We are taught that man must coopeiate, in the only possible 
way, in the work of imparting to him this supreme good. 
A mystery is involved in this necessity that we cannot 
fathom. We recognize the fact, however, that obedience 



225 

to this requirement in the act of prayer is in harmony with 
the universal law of cooperation. Here, as everywhere 
else, our will must harmonize with the will of God. His 
desire to grant must be met by a corresponding desire on 
our part to receive. This desire must, in this, as in all 
other cases, manifest itself in appropriate activity. With 
this voluntary cooperation on our part all the infinite 
yearning of the Father may not dispense. This is the uni- 
form teaching of the Bible, which closes with the symbol 
of our cooperative act in drinking: '' Whosoever will, let 
him take of the water of life freely " However trifling the 
act that is required on the part of man, that act must be 
voluntarily performed. 



These few words have been given to the command. We 
now pass to the promise: '^ Ye shall receive." The Christ 
here declares the necessary connection between asking and 
receiving this unspeakable gift. In this case also, the 
consequence that was attached by the Christ to this 
promise is shown by its repetition. It is presented to us 
six times, in six different forms of expression, gi'owdng in 
force to the end. Then in addition a contrast is stated be- 
tween the certainty of the gifts or expressions of affection 
of God and of man, which is important to be dwelt upon, as 
proving also the divinity of the speaker. David liad said: 
' ' Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
them that fear Him." It is to be observed that human 
language never went further than this, and that because 
it could not. This expressed the uttermost limit of human 
experience or power of conception. No deeper emotion can 
form its image in our consciousness. But the Christ says: 
" If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to 
your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father 
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?" How much 
morel No finite mind can measure the meaning of these 
words. It is only when we consider the faithfulness of 
God in nature, as shown in the unvarying uniformity 
of His beneficent activity, that we can form in our minds 
some notion of the absolute nature of the connection that 
is here declared by the Christ to exist between our asking 



226 

and receiving this spiritual gift. In these words of the 
Christ we hear the same voice to which we hsten in the 
physical creation, declaring His own unvarying truth in all 
His conduct. This supreme and inconceivahle good is thus 
declared to be made wholly dependent on our prayers, and 
also certain to be given in answer to them. The Bible, to 
which we have appealed, teaches uniformly that prayer 
is the mode of man's cooperation in the reception of this 
good. 



But Christians cling to the feeling that they should pray 
to God for everything. They ask if it is not their duty to 
do so. Ought not men, thf^y say, to ask God for every- 
thing for which they are dependent upon him? This 
question, which is without doubt pretty nearly a universal 
one, shows three things ; a want of faith in God, a feeble 
realization of the infinite difference between all earthly 
benefits and the single spiritual good, and a disposition to 
ignore the positive and earnest command of the Christ. Let 
us look at the obvious reasons for this command. There 
is, in the first place, unspeakable danger that the desire 
after inferior benefits, or to escape from inferior ills, may 
take in the mind the place of the desire after the infinite 
good and to escape the immeasurable ill; that the lesser 
may engross our thoughts and care, and may hide the 
greater from our sight. There can, in fact, be no doubt 
that this disastrous result is always produced in some de- 
gree, and generally in a large degree. This tendency it is, 
against which these commands of the Christ were ex- 
pressly directed, and which is to be overcome only by 
absolute obedience to them. 

It is also to be observed, that there is only one thing, 
about which we are certain what the will and purpose of 
God is. That is, the re-creation of our nature, of the 
natures of all mankind, into his image. This is the one 
thing for which we can ask in the full certainty that our 
desire is in harmony with the divine purpose. But here we 
must stop. Concerning any inferior object of desire, we 
cannot generally have the least idea whether its possession 
would promote or would hinder this supreme blessing. We 



227 

cannot imagine whether our prayer would be in harmony 
with, or contrary to, the beneficent purpose of God. If 
the individual is really seeking the kingdom of God, with 
the faintest appreciation of its nature, how is it possible 
for him to have any desire, respecting anything else what- 
ever, except to leave it in the hands of God. It would 
seem as if, to the soul filled with faith, everything, joy or 
sorrow, prosperity or adversity, health or sickness, life or 
death, would be equally welcome, because equally certain 
to be the means that its Heavenly Father was employing 
to convey to it the single and priceless object of its desire. 
This seems to be the only correct mode of reasoning on 
the subject. And when we cast our eyes about us, how 
often do we see the possession of apparent temporary good 
to be a curse, an evident and obvious curse, and privation 
and distress and sorrow to have been blessings beyond all 
price. 

"We tmni again to the words of the Christ. ^'SeU all 
that thou hast." 'Let nothing come between thy soul and 
me.' "With what tremendous language does he repeatedly 
drive this demand through and through the soul. Then 
comes the tenderness, and revelation of the method of 
divine love: ''Blessed are they that mourn." Then the 
assurance, while we obey the command : ''Seek ye first 
the kingdom of God and his righteousness," that without 
our asking "aU these things shall be added unto you." 



In the light of this express teaching of the Christ, we 
feel an emotion of awe when we turn back a thousand 
years, and read the answer of God to Solomon: " Because 
thou hast not asked. "^ ^ 4f j i^^ve given thee." Ob- 
serve the language: ''Because thou hast not asked." 
Solomon was aniaiated by the single spirit of consecration 
to duty. He saw^ that he must become a means either of 
good or of harm to his people. The absorbing desire of 
his heart was that he might be kept from the latter, and 
be enabled to achieve the former, of these two ends. This 
anxiety filled his mind, and it was not possible for him to 
entertain any desires of a personal nature. "And God 



i 



228 



said to Solomon : Because this was in thine heart, and 
thou hast not asked riches, wealth or honor, nor the life of 
thine enemies, neither 3'et hast asked long life * * * 
Behold, I have done according to thy words * ^ ^ 
And I have also given thee that which thou hast not 
asked," 

A thousand years apart ! The words of God I "Because 
thou hast not asked, I have given thee." ''Seek ye 
first the Kingdom, and all these things shall be added." 



It would seem that with the very beginning of faith 
there must come the prompting to leave all inferior 
things without anxiety to Him, whose care over every 
creature is infinite, and who only can know by what means 
to convey to the soul that good which is the single object 
of its desire, both for itself and for its fellow beings. This 
trust cannot hinder, but, on the contrary, it must quick- 
en, the individual in the performance of every duty. It 
forms the only sure ground of fidelity. It elevates the soul 
above the reach of repining. It increases its capacity for 
happiness, as well as its ability to impart happiness to 
others. It gives to the spirit a serene tranquility that 
enables it to exert all its powers most effectively, and so 
becomes in the highest degree conducive to its usefulness, 
in every occupation and relation of life. 

We are brought to this general conclusion, that prayer 
is that highest form of our cooperative activity, which has 
for its appropriate object the restoration of mankind, of 
ourselves, and our race, to a state of holiness, an object 
which is inclusive of all those subordinate objects that may 
be conducive to this supreme result. 



The spirit that lives in any degree in a state of harmony 
with the divine nature cannot fail to desire the blessing 
of God upon its work, upon that which is the object of its 
just and honest effort, whatever the nature of that effort 
may be. A notable example of this is referred to in the 
Introduction to these papers. This desire such a spirit 
necessarily feels, and longs to give expression to it. 



229 

The desire itself, however, is commonly vague and indis- 
tinct, and so the expression of it is often general and indefi- 
nite. This is a great pity. It would be a gain every way if 
in all cases a clear and distinct meaning should be attached 
to this petition, and if this meaning should assume definite 
expression. On this point, as on so many others, mechani- 
cal science affords a real help. We may here listen to its 
final lesson. It will be the same lesson that we heard at 
the beginning. In mechanics, we cannot accomplish any- 
tliing unless our purposes are in harmony with the pur- 
poses of God. The object of all study and of all experi- 
ment in mechanical pursuits, is to ascertain those eternal 
and unchangeable purj)oses in order that our own may be 
brought into accordance with them. 

Intelligent prayer for the blessing of God on our me- 
chanical work, whether this work, as was the case with 
George Stephenson, be a bridge across an arm of the sea, 
to be built on a plan as yet untried, or whatever it 
may be, whether it involve great or small responsibihty, 
must, it is obvious, be a prayer, first, for such insight as 
shall enable us to comprehend all the conditions and re- 
quirements of the problem, and then for such fidelity and 
watchfulness as shall ensure our compliance with these 
conditions and requirements in every particular, from the 
greatest down to the least and most insignificant. This 
must be the prayer. And with this prayer there must be 
joined, and of necessity there will be, since it is prompted 
by the same disposition, first, the earnest study of these 
conditions and requirements, and of the principles and 
laws that are involved in our work, and, united with this 
study, the ceaseless watchfulness and the faithful doing 
of everything that is devolved on us to be done. 



The universal application of this lesson is obvious. In 
the verbal revelation we have imparted to us the change- 
less principles that are to govern our conduct in our rela- 
tions to our fellow-beings and to God; precisely as in the 
physical revelation those principles are made known to us 
that must govern our conduct with relation to matter. By 



230 

obedience to the former, precisely as by obedience to the 
latter, our conduct is brought into harmony with the con- 
duct of God. 

IntelHgent prayer for the divine blessing on our conduct 
in every situation and station in life must, then, be a prayer, 
first, for a clear knov^ledge of these immutable laws of 
conduct, for that complete possession of them, or possession 
of ourselves by them, that shall enable us to make faithful 
application of them to all the conditions in which we find 
ourselves to be placed, and then for such fidelity and watch- 
fulness as shall ensure our observance of them in every 
particular, even the least. This must be the prayer. And 
with the prayer, precisely as in the former case, there must 
be, and there necessarily will be, joined, first, the earnest 
study of these principles of conduct, that will enable us to 
perceive at once their application to every case as it arises, 
and, united with this study, the ceaseless watchfulness 
and the faithful doing of everything that is devolved on 
us to be done. 



The End. 



.■}<& 



MECHANICS 



— AND — 



FAITH 



— UY 



CHARLES T. PORTER. 



Put in type and a fav copies printed in this form, far the purpose o/' 
suhmiltiiig it to criticism in adiHince of its publication. 



NEW YORK: 

I'^VKNING POHT JOH PkINI'INO OfFIOK, COH. liUDAUWAY ANI> I IIION Si. 

(Liiw Telepbone 541.) 
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